SERGEANT   J.  B.  GIL  LETT,   TEXAS    RANGER 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE 
TEXAS  RANGERS 


1875  TO  1881 


BY 

JAMES  B.  GILLETT 

Ex-Sergeant  Company  "A,"  Frontier  Battalion 


VON  BOECKMANN-JONES  Co.,  PUBLISHERS 
AUSTIN,  TEXAS 


COPYRIGHT  1921 

BY 

JAMES  B.  GILLETT 


Bancroft  Library 


TO  MY  OLD  RANGER  COMRADES 
WHEREVER  THEY  MAY  BE 


FOREWORD 

To  write  a  true  and  complete  history  of  the  Texas 
Rangers  as  a  state  organization  would  require  much 
time  and  an  able  historian.  I  am  not  a  historian 
and  could  not  undertake  such  an  exhaustive  treatise, 
which  would  fill  several  volumes  the  size  of  this, 
and  it  is  only  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  my  chil- 
dren, frontier  friends,  and  old  comrades  that  I  have 
undertaken  to  write  a  short  history  of  the  rangers 
during  the  years  I  served  with  them.  This  little 
volume,  then,  has  only  the  modest  aim  of  pictur- 
ing the  life  of  the  Texas  Rangers  during  the  years 
1875-1881.  I  cannot,  at  this  late  date,  recount  in 
detail  all  the  scouts  that  were  made  while  I  was  in 
the  service.  I  have,  therefore,  confined  myself 
principally  to  the  description  of  those  in  which  I 
was  a  participant.  Naturally,  I  remember  those 
the  best. 

It  has  been  said  that  truth  never  makes  very  in- 
teresting reading.  Of  the  accuracy  of  this  dictum 
I  leave  my  readers  to  judge,  for  I  have  told  my 
story  just  as  I  remember  it,  to  the  very  best  of  my 
ability  and  without  any  effort  to  embroider  it  with 
imagination.  If  I  can  interest  any  of  my  old  ranger 
comrades  or  even  just  one  little  boy  that  loves  to 

5 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing  Page 

SERGEANT  J.  B.  GILLETT Frontispiece 

GENERAL  JNO.  B.  JONES 29 

CAPTAIN  D.  W.  ROBERTS 41 

CAPTAIN  NEAL  COLDWELL 102 

LIEUTENANT  N.  0.  REYNOLDS 118 

CAPTAIN  GEO.  W.  BAYLOR 192 

DALLAS  STOUDENMIRE 322 

JAMES  B.  GILLETT  .  .  332 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS 
RANGERS. 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

The  greatest  shaping  force  in  human  life  is  hered- 
ity, and  from  my  father  I  inherited  my  love  of  the 
open  frontier  and  its  life  of  danger  and  excitement. 
This  inheritance  was  further  strengthened  by  en- 
vironment and  training,  and  finally  led  me  to  em- 
brace the  life  of  the  Texas  Ranger.  My  father, 
James  S.  Gillett,  was  himself  a  frontiersman,  though 
born  in  the  quieter,  more  settled  east.  At  a  very 
early  age  his  parents  emigrated  from  his  birthplace 
in  Kentucky  and  moved  to  Missouri.  Here,  after 
a  short  time,  they  died  and  the  young  orphan  lived 
with  a  brother-in-law.  When  still  quite  a  youth 
my  father,  with  three  other  adventurous  Mis- 
sourians,  set  out  on  an  expedition  to  Santa  Fe, 
New  Mexico.  While  passing  through  Indian  Ter- 
ritory, now  the  State  of  Oklahoma,  the  little  party 
was  captured  by  the  Osage  Indians.  Fortunately 
for  the  youngsters,  their  captors  did  them  no  harm, 
but  turned  them  loose  after  two  weeks'  imprison- 
ment in  the  redskin  camp. 

11 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Despite  this  first  setback  my  father  persevered 
and  reached  Santa  Fe.  Here  he  lived  several  years 
and  mastered  the  Spanish  language.  Not  long 
afterward  the  emigrating  fever  again  caught  him 
up  and  he  journeyed  to  Van  Buren,  Arkansas. 
While  living  there  he  studied  law  and  was  admitted 
to  the  bar.  Shortly  thereafter  he  removed  to  Paris, 
Texas,  from  which  he  was  elected  to  the  Texas 
Legislature  as  representative  for  Lamar  and  ad- 
joining counties. 

When  Texas  entered  the  Union  and  brought  on 
the  Mexican  War  with  the  United  States,  my  father 
enlisted  in  1846  and  rose  to  the  rank  of  major.  In 
1854  he  was  Adjutant-General  of  Texas.  Betwreen 
1859  and  1860,  during  the  governorship  of  Sam 
Houston,  my  father  was  quartermaster  of  a  bat- 
talion of  rangers,  thus  making  it  natural  that  I 
should  also  feel  drawn  toward  this  famous  organi- 
zation. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War  my  father  was 
beyond  military  age, — he  was  born  in  1810 — but  as 
the  South  became  hard  pressed  for  men  he  enlisted 
in  the  spring  of  1864  and  served  in  Captain  Car- 
ington's  company  until  the  end  of  the  war. 

In  1850,  a  few  years  before  he  became  Adjutant- 
General,  my  father  married  Miss  Bettie  Harper, 
then  a  resident  of  Washington  County,  Texas.  My 

12 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

mother's  father,  Captain  Harper,  was  a  southern 
planter  who  emigrated  from  North  Carolina  be- 
tween 1846  and  1848,  and,  settling  in  Washington 
County,  established  a  Dixie  plantation  with  a  hun- 
dred slaves.  My  mother  was  a  highly  cultivated 
and  refined  woman.  On  her  marriage  she  brought 
several  negro  servants  with  her  to  her  new  home 
in  Austin.  Of  her  union  with  my  father  five  chil- 
dren were  born.  The  first  two,  both  boys,  died  in 
infancy.  I  was  the  fourth  child  born  to  my  parents, 
and  first  saw  the  light  of  day  in  Austin,  Texas,  on 
November  4,  1856.  An  older  sister,  Mary,  and  a 
younger,  Eva,  survived  to  adulthood. 

At  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  my  father  returned 
to  his  family  pretty  well  broken  in  health  and  prob- 
ably also  in  spirit.  His  slaves  were  all  freed  and 
his  land  holdings,  about  two  hundred  acres  of  cedar 
land,  some  five  or  six  miles  from  Austin,  and  a 
tract  of  pine  land  in  Grimes  County,  Texas,  were 
not  very  productive.  There  was  not  much  law 
practice  in  Austin  in  the  early  post-war  days,  but 
my  father  set  to  work  resolutely  to  provide  for  his 
family.  Though  I  did  not  realize  it  then,  I  now 
know  that  he  had  a  hard  struggle.  I  was  only 
eight  and  a  half  years  old  when  father  returned  to 
us  from  the  Confederate  Army,  but  I  remember  he 
used  to  amuse  himself  by  relating  to  us  vivid  ac- 

13 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

counts  of  his  Indian  fighting  and  frontier  adven- 
tures. What  heredity  gave  me  a  predilection  for 
was  strengthened  by  these  narratives,  and  I  early 
conceived  a  passionate  desire  to  become  a  frontiers- 
man and  live  a  life  of  adventure. 

In  those  early  days  in  Texas  there  were  no  free 
schools  in  Austin,  so  my  father  sent  the  three  of 
us,  Mary,  Eva,  and  myself,  to  the  pay  schools. 
None  of  these  was  very  good,  and  I  lost  nearly  two 
years  at  a  German  school,  trying  to  mix  German 
and  English.  I  have  never  been  of  a  studious 
nature — the  great  out  of  doors  always  called  to 
me,  and  I  found  the  desk's  dead  wood  particularly 
irksome.  When  school  closed  in  the  early  summer 
of  1868,  like  some  of  Christ's  disciples,  I  went  fish- 
ing and  never  attended  school  an  hour  thereafter. 
For  books  I  substituted  the  wide-open  volume  of 
nature  and  began  the  life  of  sport  and  freedom  that 
was  to  prepare  me  later  for  service  with  the  rangers. 

As  poor  as  he  was  my  father  always  kept  a  pony, 
and  I  learned  to  ride  almost  before  I  could  walk. 
Raised  on  the  banks  of  the  Colorado  River,  I  learned 
to  swim  and  fish  so  long  ago  that  I  cannot  now 
remember  when  I  was  unable  to  do  either.  I  fished 
along  the  river  with  a  few  hand  lines  and  used  to 
catch  quantities  of  gaspergou  or  drums.  These 
were  fine  fish  and  sold  readily  on  the  streets  of 

14 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

Austin,  so  I  soon  saved  money  enough  to  buy  a 
small  skiff  or  fishing  boat.  I  now  bought  a  trot 
line  with  a  hundred  hooks  and  began  fishing  in 
real  earnest.  About  five  or  six  miles  below  Austin 
on  the  Colorado  was  Mathews'  mill.  Just  below 
the  dam  of  this  mill  the  fishing  was  always  good, 
and  here  I  made  my  fishing  grounds.  I  had  a  large 
dry  goods  box  with  inch  auger  holes  bored  in  it. 
This  box,  sunk  in  the  river  and  secured  by  a  rope 
tied  to  a  stob,  made  a  capital  trap,  and  into  it  I 
dropped  my  fish  as  they  were  caught.  In  this  way 
I  kept  them  alive  and  fresh  until  I  had  enough  to 
take  into  town. 

Many  free  negroes  were  farming  along  the  banks 
of  the  Colorado,  and  I  would  hire  a  pony  of  them 
for  twenty-five  cents  a  trip  when  I  was  ready  to 
take  my  catch  into  town.  Many  times  I  have  left 
the  river  by  starlight  and  reached  the  Old  Market 
House  at  Austin  at  dawn,  spread  out  a  gunny  sack, 
bunch  my  fish  and  be  ready  for  the  first  early  mar- 
keters. I  kept  up  my  fishing  until  the  fish  stopped 
biting  in  the  fall  of  1868. 

Confederate  soldiers  returning  home  from  the 
war  brought  with  them  many  old  Enfield  muskets. 
These  were  smooth  bore  and  chambered  one  large 
ball  and  three  buckshot.  These  old  guns,  loaded 
with  small  shot,  were  fine  on  birds  and  squirrels, 

15 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

but  they  had  one  serious  objection— they  would 
kick  like  a  mule.  As  the  boys  used  to  say,  they 
"would  get  meat  at  both  ends!"  A  day's  shooting 
with  one  of  these  muskets  would  leave  one's  shoul- 
der and  arm  black  and  blue  for  a  week. 

When  fishing  failed  I  decided  to  become  a  hunter, 
and  bought  one  of  these  old  guns  for  $3.50.  It  was 
as  long  as  a  fence  rail,  and  at  my  age  I  could  not 
begin  to  hold  it  out  and  shoot  off  hand,  so  I  had  to 
use  a  rest.  The  Enfield  musket  had  the  longest 
barrel  I  ever  saw  on  a  gun,  and  the  hammer  was  as 
long  as  a  man's  hand.  I  could  cock  my  gun  with 
both  hands,  but  if  I  failed  to  get  a  shot  I  was  not 
strong  enough  to  let  the  hammer  down  without 
letting  it  get  away,  so  I  had  to  carry  it  cocked  to 
keep  from  losing  the  cap.  I  would  take  it  off  the 
tube  and  put  it  in  my  pocket  until  I  had  a  chance 
for  another  shot.  I  remember  once  when  I  cocked 
my  musket  I  could  see  no  cap  on  the  tube  and, 
thinking  it  had  fallen  off,  I  pulled  the  trigger.  The 
cap  had  stuck  up  in  the  old  hammer  and  the  gun 
roared  like  a  cannon.  I  was  always  sure  to  look 
for  the  cap  after  this.  I  did  not  make  much  head- 
way using  this  kind  of  weapon,  but  it  taught  me 
the  use  and  danger  of  firearms, — a  knowledge  I  was 
to  find  very  useful  in  later  years. 

When  fishing  opened  up  in  the  spring  of  1869  I 

16 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

returned  to  my  fishing  lines,  and  in  the  fall  of  the 
same  year  I  bought  a  double-barreled  shotgun  for 
$12.  With  it  I  killed  quail,  ducks  and  other  small 
game,  all  of  which  I  sold  on  the  streets  of  Austin. 
By  the  fall  of  1870  I  was  fourteen  years  old  and 
could  handle  a  gun  rather  well  for  one  of  my  age. 

Early  that  winter  wild  geese  came  south  by  the 
hundreds.  I  used  to  hunt  them  down  the  Colorado 
River,  ten  or  twelve  miles  below  Austin.  The  birds 
would  feed  in  the  corn  fields  in  the  early  morning, 
then  flock  to  the  sand  bars  in  the  river  during  the 
middle  of  the  day.  There  was  nothing  silly  about 
those  geese,  for  they  were  smart  enough  to  fre- 
quent only  the  big  islands,  three  or  four  hundred 
yards  from  any  cover.  It  was  impossible  to  reach 
them  with  any  kind  of  a  shotgun.  I  used  to  slip 
up  to  them  as  close  as  I  could  and  watch  them  for 
hours,  trying  to  think  of  some  plan  to  get  within 
gun  shot  of  them.  I  saw  as  many  as  a  thousand 
geese  on  those  bars  at  a  single  time.  I  have  thought 
regretfully  of  those  birds  many  times  since,  and 
have  wished  I  could  have  shot  into  one  of  those 
flocks  with  a  modern  rifle — I  could  have  killed  a 
dozen  geese  at  a  shot. 

In  the  spring  of  1871  I  had  my  first  trip  to  the 
frontier  of  Texas.  My  father  traded  some  of  his 
Grimes  County  pine  land  for  a  bunch  of  cattle  in 

17 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Brown  County,  and  took  me  with  him  when  he 
went  to  receive  the  herd.  This  was  the  first  time 
I  had  ever  been  twenty-five  miles  from  Austin.  I 
was  delighted  with  the  trip,  the  people,  and  the 
country.  Those  big,  fine  frontiersmen,  each  wear- 
ing a  pair  of  sixshooters  and  most  of  them  carry- 
ing a  Winchester,  fired  my  boyish  imagination. 
Their  accounts  of  frontier  h'f e  and  their  Indian  tales 
fascinated  me.  I  wanted  to  stay  right  there  with 
them  and  lost  all  interest  in  ever  living  in  town 
again.  During  the  same  year  my  father  drove  sev- 
eral bunches  of  cattle  to  Austin  and  I  helped  him  on 
those  drives.  Thus  I  began  to  be  a  cowboy, — my 
first  step  toward  the  life  of  the  open,  upon  which 
I  had  set  my  heart. 

In  the  summer  of  1872  my  mother's  health  began 
to  fail  and  my  father  took  her  to  Lampasas  Springs. 
The  water  seemed  to  help  her  so  much  that  he  de- 
cided to  make  Lampasas  our  home.  At  that  time 
Lampasas  County  was  strictly  a  cattle  country,  but 
there  was  not  much  cow  hunting  during  the  winter 
in  those  days.  The  cattlemen  and  the  cowboys 
spent  a  good  deal  of  time  in  town  just  having  a 
good  time.  During  this  period  I  became  well  ac- 
quainted with  them.  In  the  spring  of  1873  my 
father  made  a  trip  back  to  Austin  on  some  busi- 
ness. The  frontier  had  been  calling  to  me  ever 

18 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

since  my  first  visit  there,  and  I  now  took  advantage 
of  my  father's  absence  to  slip  out  to  Coleman 
County,  at  that  time  on  the  frontier  of  Texas. 

Monroe  Cooksey  and  Jack  Clayton  had  bought  a 
bunch  of  cattle  in  Coleman  County  and  I  saw  the 
outfit  when  it  left  Lampasas.  I  was  slightly  ac- 
quainted with  most  of  the  men  in  this  outfit,  so  I 
decided  to  follow  it  and  try  to  get  work.  It  was 
an  Indian  country  every  step  of  the  way,  and  I  was 
afraid  to  make  the  trip  alone.  In  a  day  or  two  I 
met  a  man  named  Bob  McCollum.  He  was  hauling 
a  load  of  flour  to  Camp  Colorado  and  let  me  travel 
with  him.  I  bade  my  mother  and  sisters  good  bye 
and  did  not  see  them  again  until  the  next  December. 

We  reached  old  Camp  Colorado  without  mishap 
in  about  five  days.  Clayton  and  Cooksey's  outfit 
was  there  loading  up  supplies  for  the  spring  work. 
I  stood  around  watching  the  cowboys  making  their 
preparations,  but  lacked  the  courage  to  ask  them 
for  work.  Finally,  the  outfit  started  down  on  Jim 
Ned  Creek  to  camp  for  dinner.  I  went  with  the 
men  and  at  last  got  up  spunk  enough  to  ask  Mr. 
Monroe  Cooksey  for  a  job.  He  looked  at  me  for 
a  minute  and  then  asked,  "What  kind  of  work  can 
a  boy  of  your  size  do?" 

I  told  him  I  was  willing  to  do  anything  a  boy  of 
my  age  could  do.  He  made  no  reply  and  we  went 

19 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

on  and  camped  for  dinner.  After  dinner  the  men 
made  ready  to  go  over  on  Hoard's  Greek  to  camp 
for  the  night.  The  boys  made  a  rope  corral  and 
began  to  catch  their  mounts.  I  just  stood  there 
like  an  orphan  watching  them.  Presently  Mr. 
Cooksey  dashed  his  rope  on  a  heavy  set  bay  horse. 
The  animal  showed  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  made  a 
rattling  noise  in  his  nose  and  struggled  so  violently 
that  it  took  three  men  on  the  rope  to  hold  him. 
Mr.  Cooksey  then  turned  to  me  and  said,  "Here, 
boy,  if  you  can  ride  this  *  *  *  (giving  an  un- 
mentionable name  to  the  horse)  you  have  a  job 
cinched." 

I  turned,  grabbed  my  saddle,  bridle  and  blanket 
and  started  to  the  animal.  An  elderly  man  in  the 
outfit  headed  me  off. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  "this  is  an  old  spoiled 
horse,  and  unless  you  are  a  mighty  good  rider  you 
had  better  not  get  on  him." 

I  brushed  him  aside. 

"Pshaw,  I'm  hunting  work,  and  while  I'm  not  a 
broncho  buster,  I  will  make  a  stab  at  riding  him 
if  he  kills  me." 

By  this  time  one  of  the  boys  had  caught  the  horse 
by  both  ears  and  was  holding  him  fast.  They  threw 
my  saddle  on  him,  tightened  up  the  cinch,  and 
finally,  after  much  trouble,  got  the  bridle  on  him 

20 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

and  lifted  me  into  the  saddle.  When  I  had  fixed 
myself  as  best  I  could  they  let  the  animal  go.  He 
made  two  or  three  revolting  leaps  forward  and  fell 
with  his  feet  all  doubled  up  under  him. 

Mr.  Gooksey  seemed  to  realize  the  danger  I  was 
in,  and  shouted  to  me  to  jump  off.  Before  I  could 
shake  myself  loose  the  old  horse  had  scrambled  to 
his  feet  and  dashed  off  in  a  run.  I  circled  him 
around  to  the  remuda  and  rode  him  until  night 
without  further  trouble.  I  had  won  my  job,  but 
it  was  a  dirty  trick  for  a  lot  of  men  to  play  on  a 
boy,  and  a  small  boy  at  that.  However,  to  their 
credit,  I  wish  to  say  they  never  put  me  on  a  bad 
horse  again  but  gave  me  the  best  of  gentle  ponies 
to  ride. 

Our  first  work  was  to  gather  and  deliver  a  herd 
of  cattle  to  the  Horrell  boys,  then  camped  on  Home 
Greek.  We  worked  down  to  the  Colorado  River, 
and  when  we  were  near  old  Flat  Top  ranch  the 
men  with  the  outfit  left  me  to  drive  the  remuda 
down  the  road  after  the  mess  wagon  while  they 
tried  to  find  a  beef.  I  had  gone  only  a  mile  or  two 
when  I  saw  a  man  approaching  me  from  the  rear. 
As  he  came  up  I  thought  he  was  the  finest  specimen 
of  a  frontiersman  I  had  ever  seen.  He  was  probably 
six  feet  tall,  with  dark  hair  and  beard.  He  was 
heavily  armed,  wearing  two  sixshooters  and  carry- 

21 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

ing  a  Winchester  in  front  of  him  and  was  riding  a 
splendid  horse  with  a  wonderful  California  saddle. 
He  rode  up  to  me  and  asked  whose  outfit  it  was  I 
was  driving.  I  told  him  Cooksey  and  Clayton's. 
He  then  inquired  my  name.  When  I  told  him  he 
said,  "Oh,  yes;  I  saw  your  father  in  Lampasas  a 
few  days  ago  and  he  told  me  to  tell  you  to  come 
home  and  go  to  school." 

I  made  no  reply,  but  just  kept  my  horses  moving. 
The  stranger  then  told  me  his  name  was  Sam  Ghol- 
ston.  He  said  it  was  dangerous  for  one  so  young 
to  be  in  a  bad  Indian  country  and  unarmed,  that 
the  outfit  should  not  have  left  me  alone,  and  coun- 
selled me  to  go  back  to  my  parents.  I  would  not 
talk  to  him,  so  he  finally  bade  me  good  bye  and 
galloped  off.  His  advice  was  good,  but  I  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  going  home — I  had  embraced  the 
frontier  lif e. 

The  Cooksey  and  Clayton  outfit  did  not  stay  in 
the  cow  business  long.  After  filling  their  contract 
with  the  Horrell  boys  they  sold  out  to  Joe  Franks. 
I  suppose  I  was  sold  along  with  the  outfit,  at  least 
I  continued  to  work  for  Mr.  Franks.  A  kinder 
heart  than  that  of  Joe  Franks  never  beat  in  a  human 
breast.  He  was  big  of  stature  and  big  of  soul.  He 
seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  his  youthful  cow- 
puncher,  and  asked  me  where  I  was  raised  and  how 

22 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

I  came  to  be  away  out  on  the  frontier.  As  cold 
weather  came  on  that  fall  he  gave  me  one  of  his 
top  coats.  It  made  a  pretty  good  overcoat  for  me 
and  came  down  quite  to  my  knees.  The  sleeves 
were  so  long  I  could  double  them  up  and  hold  my 
bridle  reins,  and  in  one  garment  I  had  both  coat 
and  gloves. 

During  the  summer  of  1873  John  Hitsons,  Sam 
Gholston  and  Joe  Franks  were  all  delivering  cattle 
to  old  John  Ghislom,  whose  outfit  was  camped  on 
the  south  side  of  the  Goncho  River,  about  where 
the  town  of  Paint  Rock  now  stands.  The  other 
outfits  were  scattered  along  down  the  river  about 
half  a  mile  apart.  There  were  probably  seventy- 
five  or  a  hundred  men  in  the  four  camps  and  at 
least  five  hundred  horses.  One  evening  just  after 
dark  the  Indians  ran  into  Gholston's  outfit,  cap- 
tured about  sixty  head  of  horses  and  got  away  with 
them.  The  redskins  and  the  cowboys  had  a  reg- 
ular pitched  battle  for  a  few  moments,  probably 
firing  two  hundred  shots.  This  fight  was  in  plain 
view  of  our  camp  and  I  saw  the  flash  of  every  gun 
and  heard  the  Indians  and  the  cowboys  yelling. 
One  of  Mr.  Gholston's  men  received  a  flesh  wound 
in  the  leg  and  several  horses  were  killed.  Two 
nights  later  the  Indians  ran  upon  Franks'  outfit  and 
tried  to  take  our  horses.  Bob  Whitehead  and  Pete 

23 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Peck  were  on  guard  and  stood  the  redskins  off. 
We  saved  our  horses  by  keeping  them  in  a  pen  for 
the  remainder  of  the  night.  I  was  beginning  to  get 
a  taste  of  frontier  life  early  in  the  game. 

For  years  cattle  had  drifted  south  into  Menard 
and  Kimble  Counties,  and  Joe  Franks  was  one  of 
the  first  of  the  Coleman  County  outfits  to  go  south 
into  the  San  Saba  and  Llano  country.  He  worked 
the  Big  and  Little  Saline  Creeks,  the  Llano  and  San 
Saba  Rivers  and  found  many  of  his  cattle  down 
there.  By  the  last  of  November  he  had  about  fin- 
ished work  for  the  year,  and,  gathering  three  hun- 
dred fat  cows  to  drive  to  Calvert,  Texas,  he  left 
John  Banister  down  on  the  Big  Saline  to  winter  the 
horses. 

I  passed  through  Lampasas  with  these  cows,  and 
saw  my  mother  and  sisters  for  the  first  time  in  nine 
months.  When  we  reached  Bell  County  a  cow 
buyer  met  us  and  bought  the  cows  at  $10  per  head. 
He  just  got  down  off  his  horse,  lifted  a  pair  of  sad- 
dle bags  off  and  counted  out  three  thousand  dol- 
lars in  twenty  dollar  gold  pieces,  and  hired  some 
of  the  boys  to  help  him  drive  the  cattle  into  Cal- 
vert. Mr.  Franks,  with  most  of  the  outfit,  turned 
back  to  Lampasas.  When  he  settled  with  me  Mr. 
Franks  owed  me  just  $200,  and  he  handed  me  ten 
twenty  dollar  gold  pieces.  It  was  the  most  money 

24 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

I  had  ever  earned  and  almost  the  greatest  amount 
I  had  seen  in  my  life. 

I  spent  December  and  January  at  home,  and  early 
in  February,  1874,  I  started  back  to  Menard  County 
with  Mr.  Franks,  as  he  was  anxious  to  begin  work 
as  early  in  the  spring  as  possible.  When  we  reached 
Parsons  Ranch  on  the  Rig  Saline  we  learned  that 
the  Indians  had  stolen  all  his  horses, — seventy-five 
or  eighty  head,  and  he  had  left  only  eight  or  ten 
old  ponies.  Mr.  Franks  sent  Will  Ranister  and 
myself  back  to  Coleman  County  to  pick  up  ten  or 
twelve  horses  he  had  left  there  the  year  before, 
while  he  himself  returned  to  Lampasas  and  Wil- 
liamson Counties  to  buy  horses. 

This  trip  from  Menard  County  to  Coleman 
County,  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  was  rather  a  hazardous  trip  for  two  boys  to 
make  alone.  However,  we  were  both  armed  with 
new  Winchesters  and  would  have  been  able  to  put 
up  a  stiff  fight  if  cornered.  Our  ponies  were  poor 
and  weak,  so  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  us  to  have  escaped  had  we  met  a  band  of  In- 
dians. And  this  is  what  we  came  very  near  doing. 

There  was  no  road  from  Menard  to  Coleman  at 
that  time,  so  we  just  traveled  north.  I  had  cow 
hunted  over  most  of  that  country  the  year  before 
and  knew  by  landmarks  pretty  well  how  to  go.  We 

25 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

reached  the  head  of  Big  Brady  Greek  one  evening 
while  a  cold  north  wind  was  blowing.  We  camped 
for  the  night  right  down  in  the  bed  of  a  dry  creek 
to  get  out  of  the  wind.  We  saddled  up  next  morn- 
ing and  had  not  gone  more  than  a  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  from  camp  before  we  discovered  where 
sixteen  or  seventeen  Indians  had  just  gone  along, — 
at  least  there  was  that  number  of  pony  tracks. 
These  redskins  had  hopped  a  skunk,  gotten  down 
and  killed  it  with  a  chunk  of  wood.  When  we 
found  the  body  it  had  scarcely  quit  bleeding.  We 
saw  moccasin  tracks  as  if  the  savages  had  all  gotten 
off  their  ponies  for  a  few  moments.  Banister  and 
I  made  the  trip  safely,  and  returned  to  Menard 
County  early  in  March.  Mr.  Franks  soon  came 
with  a  new  bunch  of  horses,  and  we  went  right  to 
work  gathering  and  deh'vering  cattle. 

About  the  first  of  June,  Bee  Clayton  came  to  the 
outfit  from  Lampasas  County  and  told  me  my  father 
had  been  dead  more  than  a  month.  Mr.  Franks 
settled  with  me  and  I  started  for  home  the  next 
day.  Upon  reaching  Lampasas  I  began  work  with 
Barrett  and  Nicholls'  outfit.  They  were  the  big- 
gest cattle  owners  in  that  country  and  ran  three 
large  outfits,  one  in  Llano  County,  one  in  San  Saba 
County,  and  another  in  Lampasas.  I  worked  with 


26 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  RANGER 

the  last  mentioned  outfit  that  I  might  be  near  my 
mother  and  sisters. 

I  had  now  become  familiar  with  most  aspects  of 
frontier  life.  I  had  cow  punched  and  seen  Indian 
raids,  but  I  had  not  yet  met  the  Texas  "bad  man" — 
the  murderer  and  the  bandit.  My  education  was 
not  long  neglected,  for  it  was  while  working  with 
Barrett  and  Nicholls  that  I  made  my  acquaintance 
with  gentry  of  that  ilk.  One  day  five  or  six  of  our 
boys  were  sitting  down  in  a  circle  eating  on  a  side 
of  calf  ribs.  One  of  the  men,  Jack  Perkins,  sud- 
denly became  involved  in  an  altercation  with  Levi 
Dunbar,  and,  without  warning,  jerked  out  his  six- 
shooter  and  shot  him  to  death.  In  rising  to  my 
feet  I  had  my  right  shoulder  powder  burned. 

I  stayed  with  Barrett  and  Nicholls  until  they  quit 
work  about  December  1,  1874.  In  those  days  cattle 
were  not  worked  much  in  the  winter  months,  so 
I  spent  the  winter  at  home.  By  spring^  I  had  be- 
come as  restless  as  a  bear  and  longed  to  get  back 
to  the  frontier.  Finally  I  could  stand  the  idleness 
no  longer  and  told  my  mother  I  was  going  back  to 
Menard  County  to  work  for  Mr.  Franks.  I  reached 
the  town  of  Menardville  early  in  March,  1875. 
There  I  learned  that  Joe  Franks  was  then  at  work 
on  South  Llano  in  Kimble  County,  about  sixty  miles 
from  Menard.  Wess  Ellis  had  just  bought  the 

27 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Rufe  Winn  stock  of  cattle  and  was  ready  to  start 
on  a  cow  hunt.  He  wanted  me  to  work  for  him, 
declaring  he  could  pay  me  as  much  as  Joe  Franks 
or  anybody  else,  so  I  hired  to  him  for  $30  a 
month, — the  top  wages  for  a  cowboy  at  that  time. 
During  the  year  I  was  at  home  a  company  of 
Texas  Rangers  commanded  by  Captain  Dan  W. 
Roberts  had  been  stationed  over  on  Little  Saline. 
This  company  received  its  mail  at  Menardville,  and 
I  became  acquainted  with  this  famous  organization. 
Their  free,  open  life  along  the  frontier  had  fired  me 
with  longing  to  become  one  of  them  and  join  in 
their  adventurous  lives.  In  the  spring  of  1875  the 
Governor  of  Texas  authorized  Captain  Roberts  to 
increase  his  command  to  fifty  men.  Almost  imme- 
diately Captain  Roberts  announced  in  Menardville 
and  vicinity  that  he  would  enlist  twenty  good  men 
on  June  1st  to  bring  his  company  to  full  strength. 
Here  was  my  opportunity,  and  I  decided  I  would  be 
one  of  those  twenty  recruits. 


28 


CHATER  II 
THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

The  Texas  Rangers,  as  an  organization,  dates 
from  the  spring  of  1836.  When  the  Alamo  had 
fallen  before  the  onslaught  of  the  Mexican  troops 
and  the  frightful  massacre  had  occurred,  General 
Sam  Houston  organized  among  the  Texan  settlers 
in  the  territory  a  troop  of  1600  mounted  riflemen. 
This  company,  formed  for  the  defense  of  the  Texan 
borders,  was  the  original  Texas  Ranger  unit,  and 
it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  organization  from 
its  very  inception  to  the  present  moment  has  never 
swerved  from  that  purpose — the  protection  of 
Texan  borders,  whether  such  protection  be  against 
the  Indian,  the  bandit  or  marauding  Mexicans  from 
beyond  the  Rio  Grande.  This  little  troop  of  rangers 
won  everlasting  laurels  in  its  stand  against  Santa 
Anna  at  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto. 

When  the  Republic  of  Texas  was  organized  in 
December,  1837,  the  new  state  found  herself  with 
an  enormous  frontier  to  protect.  To  the  south  was 
the  hostile  Mexico  while  to  the  west  and  northwest 
roved  the  Indian  and  the  bandit.  To  furnish  pro- 
tection against  such  enemies  and  to  form  the  nu- 
cleus of  a  national  standing  army  the  ranger  troop 

29 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

was  retained.  During  the  seven  years  that  Texas 
had  to  maintain  her  own  independence  before  she 
was  admitted  into  the  American  Union,  her  rangers 
repelled  hordes  of  Mexicans,  fought  the  murderous 
Apaches,  Comanches,  and  Kiowas,  and  adminis- 
tered justice  on  a  wholesale  plan  to  a  great  num- 
ber of  outlaws  and  ruffians  that  had  flocked  pell 
mell  into  the  new  Republic  from  the  less  attractive 
parts  of  the  United  States. 

So  vital  was  the  service  rendered  by  the  rangers 
in  protecting  the  lives  and  property  of  the  settlers 
along  the  frontiers  of  the  state  that  Texas  retained 
twelve  hundred  rangers  as  mounted  police  for  pa- 
trol of  the  Mexican  border  and  as  a  safeguard 
against  the  savage  redskins  of  the  southwest.  When 
the  Civil  War  broke  out  between  the  North  and 
the  South,  Texas  was  drawn  into  the  conflict  on  the 
side  of  the  Confederacy.  General  Con  Terry,  an 
old  ranger,  organized  the  famous  body  of  men 
known  as  Terry's  Texas  Rangers.  This  command 
was  composed  almost  exclusively  of  ex-rangers  and 
frontiersmen.  From  Bull  Run  to  Appomattox  this 
ranger  troop  rendered  gallant  service,  and  lost 
seventy-five  per  cent  of  its  original  muster  roll. 
General  Sherman,  in  his  memoirs,  speaks  admir- 
ingly of  the  bravery  of  the  rangers  at  the  battle  of 
Shiloh. 

30 


THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Return  to  peace  and  the  days  of  reconstruction 
did  not  do  away  with  the  necessity  for  the  service 
that  could  only  be  rendered  by  the  ranger.  Ban- 
ditry, Indian  uprisings  and  massacres,  cattle  thiev- 
ery, all  flourished,  for  the  bad  man  confidently  ex- 
pected the  post-war  turmoil  would  protect  him  from 
punishment  for  his  misdeeds.  He  was  to  be  un- 
deceived, for  the  rangers  effectively  taught  him  that 
they  were  in  the  state  for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
lives  and  property,  and  right  royally  did  they  per- 
form that  duty.  From  1868  to  1873  the  ranger 
companies  were  gradually  reduced  from  one  thou- 
sand to  about  three  hundred  men. 

The  Federal  Government  adopted  a  most  unfor- 
tunate policy  toward  the  Indians  after  the  war.  The 
tribes  were  removed  to  reservations  and  rationed 
as  public  charges.  Unscrupulous  dealers,  in  their 
desire  for  gain,  illegally  sold  firearms  to  the  In- 
dians, and  whenever  a  redskin  massacred  a  fron- 
tiersman he  was  sure  to  capture  good  weapons,  so 
that  they  soon  became  well  armed  and  very  expert 
in  handling  their  new  weapons.  As  no  attempt 
was  made  to  confine  them  to  the  reservation  limits, 
the  redskins,  under  their  native  chiefs,  were  always 
sneaking  off  and  raiding  West  Texas.  These  ma- 
rauders stole  thousands  of  horses  and  cattle,  and 
did  not  hesitate  to  murder  and  scalp  the  defenseless 

31 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

people  along  the  frontier.  Numbers  of  women  and 
children  were  carried  off  as  captives,  a  very  small 
proportion  of  which  were  subsequently  ransomed. 
Repeated  complaints  to  Washington  brought  no  re- 
dress. Indeed,  some  of  the  government  officials 
calmly  declared  that  the  Indians  were  doing  no 
harm — it  was  white  men  disguised  as  redskins  that 
caused  the  trouble! 

In  1874  conditions  along  the  frontier  had  become 
so  acute  that  the  need  for  an  organized  mounted 
police  for  the  protection  of  the  settlers  against  the 
continued  Indian  raids  became  apparent.  As  in 
the  past  the  state  looked  again  to  her  rangers.  Early 
in  1874,  during  the  administration  of  Governor 
Richard  Coke,  the  first  Democratic  governor  since 
secession,  the  Legislature  appropriated  $300,000  for 
frontier  defense,  thus  authorizing  the  formation  of 
the  Texas  Rangers  as  now  constituted.  The  gov- 
ernor immediately  issued  a  call  for  four  hundred 
and  fifty  volunteers.  These  were  formed  into  six 
companies  of  seventy-five  men  each.  Each  of  these 
units  was  officered  by  a  captain  and  a  first  and  sec- 
ond lieutenant.  The  companies  were  designated 
A,  B,  G,  D,  E,  and  F,  and  received  the  official  name 
of  the  Frontier  Battalion  of  Texas  Rangers.  Major 
John  B.  Jones  of  Gorsicana,  Texas,  was  commis- 
sioned major  of  the  command.  At  this  time  the 

32 


THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

captains  received  a  salary  of  $100  per  month,  lieu- 
tenants $75,  sergeants  $50,  and  corporals  and  pri- 
vates $40.  Subsequently,  as  the  Legislature  contin- 
ually sliced  into  the  ranger  appropriation,  the  pay 
of  the  private  was  reduced  to  only  $30  a  month,  a 
mere  pittance  for  the  hazardous  service  demanded 
of  them. 

Early  in  1:874  the  force  took  the  field,  and  each 
company  was  assigned  a  definite  territory  along 
\he  frontier.  Company  "A,"  being  the  northern- 
most company,  was  camped  on  the  main  fork  of 
the  Brazos  River;  Company  "F,"  the  southernmost, 
was  stationed  on  the  Nueces  River.  The  remaining 
four  companies  were  posted  along  the  line  between 
the  two  commands  mentioned  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  miles  apart,  so  that  the  battalion 
of  four  hundred  and  fifty  men  was  required  to 
cover  a  frontier  of  between  five  and  &\x  hundred 
miles. 

Major  Jones  was  a  very  able  commander,  and 
quickly  won  the  confidence  of  his  men  and  of  the 
people  along  the  border  he  was  sent  to  protect. 
The  frontiersmen  cooperated  with  him  in  every 
way  possible,  sending  runners  to  the  various  ranger 
camps  whenever  an  Indian  trail  was  found  or  a 
bunch  of  horses  stolen.  During  the  very  first  six 
months  of  its  existence  nearly  every  company  in 

33 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  battalion  had  had  an  Indian  fight  and  some  of 
them  two  or  three.  This  command  finally  cleared 
the  Texas  frontier  of  the  redskins  and  then  turned 
its  attention  to  the  other  pests  of  the  state, — thieves, 
bandits,  and  fugitives  from  justice.  In  this  work 
the  ranger  rendered  service  second  to  none,  and  be- 
came in  an  incredibly  short  time  the  most  famous 
and  the  most  efficient  body  of  mounted  police  in 
the  world. 

Between  1865  and  1883  the  Texas  Rangers  fol- 
lowed one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  Indian  raid- 
ing parties,  and  fought  the  redskins  in  eighty-four 
pitched  battles.  During  this  same  period  they  re- 
covered six  thousand  stolen  horses  and  cattle  and 
rescued  three  citizens  carried  off  by  Indians.  In 
this  period  twelve  rangers  were  killed.  Despite  this 
record  of  service,  the  Legislature  at  Austin  could 
not  always  be  made  to  see  the  advantages, — nay, 
the  necessity, — for  a  ranger  force,  and  it  was  con- 
tinually tinkering  with  the  appropriations  for  the 
support  of  the  force.  When  the  appropriation  was 
small  the  command  was  reduced  to  keep  within  the 
expenditure  doled  out  by  the  parsimonious  solons, 
and  recruited  to  full  strength  whenever  the  law- 
makers could  be  prevailed  upon  to  increase  the  an- 
nual ranger  budget. 

By  1885  conditions  had  changed.  Texas  was  no 

34 


THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

longer  endangered  by  Indians,  for  the  rangers  had 
done  much  to  convert  the  red  devils  into  good  In- 
dians,— that  is,  into  dead  ones.  Although  the  In- 
dians had  utterly  disappeared  from  the  state,  the 
activities  of  the  rangers  did  not  cease.  The  white 
"bad  man"  who  had  stirred  up  the  first  Indian 
troubles  now  began  to  plunder  and  murder  his  own 
race  and  indulge  in  every  form  of  lawlessness. 
From  hunting  the  murderous  redskins  the  rangers 
became  now  stalkers  of  the  man-killers  and  those 
who  despoiled  their  neighbors  of  their  property. 
The  local  legal  authorities  could  not  or  would  not 
handle  this  task  themselves,  so  the  rangers  were 
made  peace  officers  and  given  the  right  of  arrest 
without  warrant  in  any  part  of  the  state.  They 
then  became  mounted  constables  to  quell  disorder, 
prevent  crime  and  bring  criminals  to  justice  and 
assist  the  duly  constituted  authorities  in  every  way 
possible.  This  new  work  was  less  romantic  than 
the  old  Indian  warfare,  but  it  was  every  bit  as 
dangerous  and  as  necessary  in  the  building  up  of 
the  fast  developing  state.  As  in  every  other  task 
assigned  him  the  ranger  did  his  duty  fearlessly  and 
well.  Between  1889  and  1890  the  rangers  made 
five  hundred  and  seventy-nine  arrests,  among  them 
seventy-six  murderers.  With  the  coming  of  the 
railroads  the  rangers  began  to  use  them,  as  they 

35 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

permitted  speed  and  the  covering  of  greater  dis- 
tances than  were  possible  on  horseback.  Moreover, 
commands  could  be  dispatched  from  one  part  of 
the  state  to  another  as  occasion  demanded.  This 
greater  mobility  led  to  larger  usefulness  and  in^ 
creasing  number  of  arrests  by  the  ranger  forces. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Spanish-American  War 
found  the  ranger  ready  and  anxious  for  service  in 
the  defense  of  the  Union.  Large  numbers  of  them 
were  enlisted  in  the  world  famous  Rough  Riders. 

"I  have  heard  from  the  lips  of  reliable  rangers," 
declared  General  Miles,  in  speaking  of  the  ranger 
service  in  Cuba,  "tales  of  daring  that  are  incom- 
parable. It  is  indeed  too  bad  that  the  world  knows 
so  little  about  those  marvelous  men.  There  have 
been  hosts  of  men  among  the  Texas  Rangers  who 
were  just  as  nervy  as  Davy  Crockett,  Travis,  or 
Bowie  at  the  Alamo." 

Thanks  to  her  rangers,  Texas  is  now  one  of  the 
most  law-abiding,  most  orderly  states  in  the  Union. 
And,  today,  more  than  forty-six  years  since  the  or- 
ganization of  the  battalion,  the  state  still  maintains 
a  tiny  force  of  rangers  numbering  sixty-three  of- 
ficers and  men.  In  1920-21,  the  battalion  was  com- 
posed of  a  headquarters  company  and  Companies 
A,  C,  D,  E,  and  F.  ,As  in  the  beginning  of  its 
history,  the  force  is  stationed  along  the  frontier. 

36 


THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

The  headquarters  company,  under  command  of 
Captain  J.  P.  Brooks,  was  stationed  at  Austin  and 
used  for  emergency  calls.  Company  "A,"  stationed 
at  Presidio,  and  commanded  by  Captain  Jerry  Gray, 
patrols  the  border  between  El  Paso,  Presidio,  and 
Jeff  Davis  Counties  and  the  back  country  south- 
ward. Company  "E,"  Captain  J.  L.  Anders,  patrols 
the  line  of  Presidio  and  Brewster  Counties  to  the 
line  of  Terrell  and  Val  Verde  Counties  and  east- 
ward. Company  "F,"  under  Captain  W.  W.  Davis, 
was  stationed  at  Del  Rio  and  covered  the  line  from 
Terrell  and  Val  Verde  Counties  down  the  river  to 
the  line  between  Maverick,  Dimmit  and  Webb 
Counties  and  the  back  country.  Under  the  com- 
mand of  Captain  William  Ryan,  Company  "C"  was 
located  at  Laredo  and  patrolled  the  line  of  Maverick, 
Dimmit  and  Webb  Counties  to  the  line  of  Zapata 
and  Starr  Counties  and  the  back  country,  while 
Company  "D,"  stationed  at  Brownsville,  under  Cap- 
tain W.  L.  Wright,  patrols  from  the  line  of  Zapata 
and  Starr  Counties  down  the  Rio  Grande  to  its 
mouth  and  the  adjacent  back  country. 

Sketchy  as  has  been  this  history,  it  will  show  a 
ranger  record  of  continuous  duty  throughout  the 
forty-six  years  of  its  existence  in  guarding  the  lives, 
the  liberty  and  the  property  of  Texas  citizens.  And 
the  ranger  has  been  content  to  perform  his  duty 

37 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS. 

unheralded  and  almost  unsung.  Performance  of 
duty,  it  matters  not  where  it  may  lead  him,  into 
whatever  desperate  situation  or  howsoever  danger- 
ous the  thing  demanded,  has  always  been  the  slogan 
of  the  organization.  For  courage,  patriotic  devo- 
tion, instant  obedience  and  efficiency,  the  record  of 
the  Texas  Ranger  has  been  equalled  by  no  body  of 
constabulary  ever  mustered. 

Though  formed  into  military  units  and  officered 
as  a  soldier,  the  ranger  is  not  a  military  man,  for 
scant  attention  is  paid  to  military  law  and  prece- 
dent. The  state  furnished  food  for  the  men,  forage 
for  their  horses,  ammunition  and  medical  attend- 
ance. The  ranger  himself  must  furnish  his  horse, 
his  accoutrements  and  his  arms.  There  is,  then, 
no  uniformity  in  the  matter  of  dress,  for  each 
ranger  is  free  to  dress  as  he  pleases  and  in  the  garb 
experience  has  taught  him  most  convenient  for  util- 
ity and  comfort.  A  ranger,  as  any  other  frontiers- 
man or  cowboy,  usually  wears  good  heavy  woolen 
clothes  of  any  color  that  strikes  his  fancy.  Some 
are  partial  to  corduroy  suits,  while  others  prefer 
buckskin.  A  felt  hat  of  any  make  and  color  com- 
pletes his  uniform.  While  riding,  a  ranger  always 
wore  spurs  and  very  high-heeled  boots  to  prevent 
his  foot  from  slipping  through  the  stirrup,  for  both 
the  ranger  and  the  cowboy  ride  with  the  stirrup  in 

38 


THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  middle  of  the  foot.  This  is  safer  and  less  fatigu- 
ing on  a  long  ride.  For  arms,  the  ranger  after 
1877  carried  a  Winchester  rifle  or  carbine,  a  Colt's 
.45  revolver,  and  a  Bowie  knife.  Two  cartridge 
belts,  one  for  Winchester  and  one  for  revolver  am- 
munition, completed  his  equipment,  and  so  armed 
he  was  ready  to  mount  and  ride. 

"We  live  in  the  saddle  and  the  sky  is  our  roof," 
say  the  old  rangers,  and  this  is  literally  true.  The 
rangers  are  perfect  centaurs  and  almost  live  in  the 
saddle.  They  take  horse  where  they  will  and  may 
arrest  or  search  in  any  part  of  the  state.  There  is 
very  little  of  what  a  West  Point  graduate  would 
call  drill.  A  ranger  is  expected  simply  to  be  a  good 
rider  and  a  quick  and  accurate  shot.  Every  one  of 
them  are  skilled  horsemen  and  crack  shots.  No 
crack  cavalryman  in  any  army  can  mount  a  horse 
more  quickly  or  more  expertly  than  a  ranger,  and 
he  can  keep  a  constant  stream  of  fire  pouring  from 
his  carbine  when  his  horse  is  going  at  top  speed  and 
hit  the  mark  nine  times  out  of  ten!  Should  a 
ranger  drop  anything  on  the  ground  that  he  wants 
he  does  not  even  check  the  speed  of  his  horse,  but, 
bending  from  the  saddle  as  if  he  were  made  of  India 
rubber,  he  picks  up  the  object  in  full  gallop. 

While  not  on  active  duty  the  rangers  amuse  them- 
selves in  various  ways.  Some  play  cards,  others 

39 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

hunt,  while  the  studious  spend  their  time  over  books 
and  good  literature.  Horse  racing  is  popular,  and 
the  fastest  horse  in  the  company  is  soon  spotted, 
for  the  rangers  match  their  mounts  one  against  the 
other.  At  night  around  their  camp  fires  the  men 
are  constantly  telling  stories  of  their  own  or  some 
comrade's  adventures  that  put  to  shame  all  the  in- 
ventions of  the  imaginative  fiction  writers.  But 
when  on  duty  all  this  is  changed.  No  pace  is  too 
quick,  no  task  too  difficult  or  too  hazardous  for 
him.  Night  and  day  will  the  ranger  trail  his  prey, 
through  rain  and  shine,  until  the  criminal  is  located 
and  put  behind  the  bars  where  he  will  not  again 
molest  or  disturb  peaceful  citizens.  For  bravery 
and  endurance  and  steadfast  adherence  to  duty  at 
all  times  the  ranger  is  in  a  class  all  to  himself. 
Such  was  the  old  ranger,  and  such  is  the  ranger  of 
today.  Is  it  surprising,  then,  that  I  was  early  at- 
tracted to  the  force  and  wished  to  join  them  in  their 
open,  joyous  and  adventurous  life? 


40 


CHAPTER  III 
I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

The  fame  of  the  Texas  Rangers  had,  of  course, 
become  common  knowledge  among  all  Texans. 
Their  deeds  of  adventure  and  their  open,  attractive 
life  along  the  frontier,  had  always  appealed  to  me, 
and  I  had  long  cherished  the  desire  to  enlist  in  the 
battalion.  But  the  enlistment,  as  announced  by 
Captain  Roberts,  would  not  be  made  until  June  1, 
1875,  and  I  reached  Menardville  early  in  March.  I 
had  intended  going  on  to  join  Mr.  Franks'  outfit, 
but,  as  explained  in  a  previous  chapter,  I  hired  out 
to  Mr.  Ellis  until  I  could  enlist  in  Captain  Roberts' 
company. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  1875,  Joe  Franks  had 
worked  back  over  into  Menard  County.  I  wished 
to  see  my  old  friends  in  his  outfit,  and  so  went  over 
to  meet  them.  While  there  I  mentioned  that  I  was 
going  to  join  the  rangers.  A  cowboy  named  Nor- 
man Rodgers,  who  was  working  for  Mr.  Franks, 
said  he  would  also  like  to  join,  so  we  decided  we 
would  go  over  to  Captain  Roberts  together  and  see 
if  we  couldn't  get  him  to  recruit  us  into  his  com- 
pany. 

Rodgers  and  I  rode  over  to  the  ranger  camp  be- 

41 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

yond  Menardville.  Neither  of  us  had  ever  been  in 
such  a  camp  before  nor  did  we  know  anyone  in 
the  company.  Of  the  first  ranger  we  met  we  in- 
quired where  we  could  find  the  captain.  His  tent 
was  pointed  out  to  us  and  we  went  toward  it. 

"Jim,"  said  Norman  as  we  approached  the  tent, 
"you  will  have  to  do  the  talking." 

Captain  Roberts  met  us  as  we  came  up  and  in- 
vited us  to  be  seated.  I  told  him  at  once  that  we 
had  come  to  enlist  as  rangers.  He  asked  us  our 
names,  where  we  were  working,  and  finally  inquired 
if  we  had  anyone  that  would  recommend  us.  We 
had  not  thought  of  references,  but  told  him  that 
probably  Mr.  Franks  or  Mr.  Ellis  would  stand  for 
us,  as  they  were  well  known  and  prominent  cattle- 
men for  whom  we  had  worked. 

Captain  Roberts  looked  straight  at  me  and  said, 
"Did  you  say  your  name  was  Gillett?" 

"Yes,  Jim  Gillett,"  I  replied. 

He  then  asked  me  where  I  was  born,  and  I  told 
him  at  Austin,  Texas. 

"Are  you  a  son  of  James  S.  Gillett  who  was  Ad- 
jutant-General under  Governor  Sam  Houston?" 

I  told  him  I  was. 

"I  have  often  heard  my  father,  Buck  Roberts, 
speak  of  your  father,"  he  said  in  a  friendly  tone. 

Captain  Roberts  then  asked  us  what  kind  of 

42 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

horses  we  had,  telling  us  that  a  ranger  was  required 
to  have  a  good  amount,  for  each  man  was  allowed 
to  have  only  one  horse,  which  had  to  be  a  good  one, 
that  could  be  ridden  every  day  for  a  month  if  neces- 
sary. I  told  the  captain  I  had  two  good  pony 
mares.  He  burst  out  laughing,  and  said  a  mare 
was  not  allowed  in  the  service.  He  then  told  us 
to  go  and  see  what  kind  of  a  mount  we  could  get, 
come  back  and  let  him  inspect  the  animals.  The 
captain  never  once  said  he  would  enlist  us,  but,  as 
the  interview  was  now  over  and  he  had  not  refused 
us,  we  went  back  to  camp  feeling  very  hopeful  we 
would  soon  be  rangers. 

I  secured  a  big  black  pony  and  Norman  a  gray 
one,  not  so  large  as  mine  but  a  much  prettier  horse. 
We  returned  to  the  ranger  camp  a  few  days  later 
mounted  on  these  ponies.  The  captain  looked  them 
over,  said  they  were  rather  small  but  that  he  would 
accept  them,  and  told  us  to  be  at  his  camp  by  May 
31st  to  be  sworn  into  the  service.  We  left  camp 
that  evening  all  puffed  up  at  the  prospect  of  being 
Texas  Rangers. 

The  last  day  of  May  arrived.  Norman  Rodgers 
and  myself  with  many  other  recruits  we  had  never 
seen  before  were  at  the  ranger  camp.  On  June  1, 
1875,  at  10  o'clock,  we  were  formed  in  line, 
mounted,  and  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  State  of 

43 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Texas  was  read  to  us  by  Captain  Roberts.  When 
we  had  all  signed  this  oath  we  were  pronounced 
Texas  Rangers.  This  was  probably  the  happiest 
day  of  my  lif e,  for  I  had  realized  one  of  my  great- 
est ambitions  and  was  now  a  member  of  the  most 
famous  and  efficient  body  of  mounted  police  in 
the  world. 

Immediately  upon  being  sworn  in  the  men  were 
divided  into  messes,  ten  men  to  the  mess,  and  issued 
ten  days'  rations  by  the  orderly  sergeant.  These 
rations  consisted  of  flour,  bacon,  coffee,  sugar, 
beans,  rice,  pepper,  salt  and  soda.  No  potatoes, 
syrup  or  lard  was  furnished,  and  each  man  had  to 
supply  his  own  cooking  utensils.  To  shorten  our 
bread  we  used  bacon  grease.  Beef  was  sometimes 
supplied  the  men,  but  wild  game  was  so  plentiful 
that  but  little  other  meat  was  required.  Further- 
more, each  recruit  was  furnished  a  Sharps  carbine. 
.50  caliber,  and  one  .45  Colt's  pistol.  These  arms 
were  charged  to  each  ranger,  their  cost  to  be  de- 
ducted from  our  first  pay.  Our  salary  of  $40  per 
month  was  paid  in  quarterly  installments.  The 
state  also  supplied  provender  for  the  horses. 

Though  a  ranger  was  forced  to  supply  his  own 
mount,  the  state  undertook  to  pay  for  the  animal 
if  it  were  killed  or  lost  in  an  Indian  fight.  To 
establish  the  impartial  value  of  our  animals,  Cap- 

44 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

tain  Roberts  marched  us  into  Menardville  and  asked 
three  citizens  of  the  town  to  place  a  value  on  each 
man's  mount.  This  was  done,  and  I  was  highly 
gratified  when  old  Goley,  my  mount,  was  appraised 
at  $125.  This  formality  over,  the  company  was 
moved  from  Little  Saline  to  Camp  Los  Moris,  five 
miles  southwest  of  Menardville,  Texas.  We  were 
now  ready  to  begin  scouting  for  Indians. 

As  is  usual  under  the  same  circumstances  the 
new  recruits  came  in  for  their  share  of  pranks  and 
mishaps.  One  raw  rooky  in  my  mess,  fired  with 
love  of  economy,  undertook  to  cook  ten  days'  ra- 
tions for  the  whole  mess  at  one  time.  He  put  a 
quantity  of  rice  on  the  fire.  Soon  it  began  to  boil 
and  swell,  and  that  surprised  ranger  found  his  rice 
increasing  in  unheard  of  proportions.  He  filled 
every  cooking  vessel  in  the  mess  with  half-cooked 
rice,  and  still  the  kettle  continued  to  overflow.  In 
desperation  he  finally  began  to  pour  it  on  the 
ground.  Even  then  he  had  enough  rice  cooked  to 
supply  the  entire  company. 

Another  recruit,  anxious  to  test  his  new  weapons, 
obtained  Captain  Roberts'  permission  to  go  hunt- 
ing. He  had  not  gone  far  from  camp  before  he 
began  firing  at  some  squirrels.  One  of  his  bullets 
struck  the  limb  of  a  tree  and  whizzed  close  to  camp. 
This  gave  an  old  ranger  an  idea.  He  hastened  after 

45 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  hunter  and  gravely  arrested  him,  declaring  that 
the  glancing  bullet  had  struck  a  man  in  camp  and 
that  Captain  Roberts  had  ordered  the  careless 
hunter's  arrest.  The  veteran  brought  in  a  pale  and 
badly  scared  recruit. 

One  of  the  favorite  diversions  of  the  old  rangers 
was  to  make  a  newcomer  believe  that  the  state  fur- 
nished the  rangers  with  socks  and  start  him  off  to 
the  captain's  tent  to  demand  his  share  of  free 
hosiery.  The  captain  took  these  pranks  in  good 
part  and  assured  the  crestfallen  applicant  that  the 
rangers  were  only  playing  a  joke  on  him,  while 
his  tormentors  enjoyed  his  discomfiture  from  a  safe 
distance. 

When  they  had  run  out  of  jokes  the  rangers  set- 
tled down  to  the  regular  routine  of  camp.  Each 
morning  the  orderly  sergeant  had  roll  call,  at  which 
time  he  always  detailed  six  or  eight  men  with  a 
non-commissioned  officer  to  take  charge  of  the 
rangers'  horses  and  the  pack  mules  until  relieved 
the  following  morning  by  a  new  guard.  The  guard 
was  mounted  and  armed  and  drove  the  loose  stock 
out  to  graze.  The  horses  were  never  taken  far 
from  camp  for  fear  of  being  attacked  by  Indians, 
and  also  to  keep  them  near  at  hand  in  case  they 
were  needed  quickly. 

The  rangers  not  on  guard  spent  their  time  as  they 

46 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

wished  when  not  on  duty,  but  no  man  could  leave 
the  camp  without  the  captain's  permission.  The 
boys  played  such  games  as  appealed  to  them,  horse- 
shoe pitching  and  cards  being  the  favorite  diver- 
sions. As  long  as  it  did  not  interfere  with  a  man's 
duty  as  a  ranger,  Captain  Roberts  permitted  pony 
racing,  and  some  exciting  contests  took  place  be- 
tween rival  horse  owners.  And  hunting  and  fish- 
ing were  always  available,  for  woods  and  streams 
were  stocked  with  game  and  fish. 

I  soon  had  cause  to  congratulate  myself  on  my 
enlistment  in  Company  "D,"  for  I  found  Captain 
D.  W.  Roberts  the  best  of  company  commanders. 
At  the  time  I  joined  his  command  he  was  just 
thirty-five  years  of  age,  very  slender  and  perhaps 
a  little  over  six  feet  tall.  His  beard  and  hair  were 
dark  auburn.  He  was  always  neatly  dressed  and 
was  kind  and  affable  in  manner, — looking  more  like 
the  dean  of  an  Eastern  college  than  the  great  cap- 
tain he  was. 

Captain  Roberts  was  a  fine  horseman  and  a  good 
shot  with  both  pistol  and  rifle.  He  was  also  a  fine 
violinist  and  often  played  for  the  boys.  He  had 
been  raised  on  the  frontier  and  had  such  a  great 
reputation  as  an  Indian  fighter  that  the  Fourteenth 
Legislature  of  Texas  presented  him  with  a  fine  Win- 
chester rifle  for  his  gallantry  in  fighting  the  red- 

47 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

skins.  The  captain  had  made  a  close  study  of  the 
habits  and  actions  of  the  Indians  and  had  become 
such  an  authority  that  their  life  was  an  open  book 
to  him.  This,  of  course,  gave  him  a  great  advan- 
tage in  following  and  fighting  them,  and  under  his 
able  leadership  Company  "D"  became  famous. 
There  was  not  a  man  in  the  company  that  did  not 
consider  it  a  compliment  to  be  detailed  on  a  scout 
with  Captain  Roberts. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  or  early  fall  of 
1875,  Captain  Roberts  visited  Colorado  County, 
Texas,  and  returned  with  a  bride,  a  Miss  Lou  Con- 
way.  Mrs.  Roberts  was  a  very  refined  and  elegant 
lady,  and  soon  adapted  herself  to  the  customs  of 
the  camp.  She  was  with  her  husband  on  the  San 
Saba  River  during  the  winter  of  1875-76  and  soon 
became  as  popular  with  the  company  as  Captain 
Roberts  himself. 

Most  people  consider  the  life  of  the  Texas  Ranger 
hard  and  dangerous,  but  I  never  found  it  so.  In 
the  first  place,  the  ranger  was  always  with  a  body 
of  well  armed  men,  more  than  a  match  for  any 
enemy  that  might  be  met.  Then,  there  was  an 
element  of  danger  about  it  that  appealed  to  any 
red-blooded  American.  All  of  western  Texas  was 
a  real  frontier  then,  and  for  one  who  loved  nature 
and  God's  own  creation,  it  was  a  paradise  on  earth. 

48 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

The  hills  and  valleys  were  teeming  with  deer  and 
turkey,  thousands  of  buffalo  and  antelope  were  on 
the  plains,  and  the  streams  all  over  Texas  were  full 
of  fish.  Bee  caves  and  bee  trees  abounded.  In  the 
spring  time  one  could  travel  for  hundreds  of  miles 
on  a  bed  of  flowers.  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  the 
power  to  describe  the  wonderful  country  as  I  saw 
it  then.  How  happy  I  am  now  in  my  old  age  that 
I  am  a  native  Texan  and  saw  the  grand  frontier 
before  it  was  marred  by  the  hand  of  man. 

The  Lipans,  Kickapoos,  Comanches,  and  Kiowa 
Indians  used  to  time  their  raids  so  as  to  reach  the 
Texas  settlements  during  the  light  of  the  moon  so 
they  would  have  moonlight  nights  in  which  to  steal 
horses  and  make  their  getaway  before  they  could 
be  discovered.  By  morning,  when  their  thefts  be- 
came known,  they  would  have  a  long  lead  ahead 
and  be  well  out  on  their  way  into  the  plains  and 
mountains.  The  captains  of  the  ranger  companies 
knew  of  this  Indian  habit,  and  accordingly  kept 
scouts  constantly  in  the  field  during  the  period  of  the 
raids.  The  redskins  coming  in  from  the  plains 
where  water  was  scarce  generally  took  the  near  cut 
to  the  headwaters  of  the  Colorado,  Concho,  San 
Saba,  Llanos,  Guadalupe,  and  Nueces  Rivers.  By 
maintaining  scouts  at  or  near  the  heads  of  these 
streams  the  rangers  frequently  caught  parties  of 

49 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Indians  going  in  or  coming  out  from  the  settlements, 
and  destroyed  them  or  recaptured  the  stolen  stock. 

The  first  light  moon  in  June  Captain  Roberts  or- 
dered a  detail  of  fifteen  men  in  command  of  Ser- 
geant James  B.  Hawkins  to  make  a  ten  days'  scout 
toward  the  head  waters  of  the  North  Llano  River. 
He  was  to  select  a  secluded  spot  near  old  abandoned 
Fort  Territ  and  make  camp  there.  Each  morning 
a  scout  of  one  or  two  men  would  be  sent  out  ten 
or  fifteen  miles  south  and  another  party  a  like  dis- 
tance toward  the  north  to  hunt  for  Indian  trails. 
The  main  body  of  rangers,  keeping  carefully  con- 
cealed, was  in  readiness  to  take  up  an  Indian  trail 
at  a  moment's  notice  should  one  be  found  by  the 
scouts. 

One  morning  Sergeant  Hawkins  ordered  me  to 
travel  south  from  camp  to  the  head  draws  of  the 
South  Llano  and  watch  for  pony  tracks. 

"Suppose  the  Indians  get  me  ?"  I  asked  laughingly 
as  I  mounted  my  pony. 

"It's  your  business  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  and 
not  let  them  catch  you,"  he  replied. 

However,  though  I  watched  very  carefully  I  could 
find  no  pony  tracks  or  Indian  trails. 

We  had  with  us  on  this  scout  Mike  Lynch,  a  pure 
Irishman.  Though  he  was  old  and  gray-headed,  he 
was  a  good  ranger,  and  had  much  native  wit.  One 

50 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

morning  it  was  Uncle  Mike's  turn  to  go  on  scout 
duty,  but  in  a  few  hours  he  was  seen  coming  into 
camp  with  his  horse,  Possum,  on  the  jump.  He 
reported  a  fresh  Indian  trail  about  ten  miles  north 
of  our  camp.  When  asked  how  many  pony  tracks 
he  had  counted,  Lynch  at  once  declared  he  had 
counted  seventeen  and  thought  there  were  more. 
As  the  Indians  usually  came  in  on  foot  or  with  as 
few  ponies  as  they  could  get  by  on  until  they  could 
steal  others,  Sergeant  Hawkins  suspected  the  tracks 
Lynch  had  seen  were  those  of  mustangs.  The  ex- 
cited scout  declared  vehemently  that  the  tracks  were 
not  those  of  wild  horses  but  of  Indians.  The  ser- 
geant was  just  as  positive  that  no  Indian  party  was 
responsible  for  the  trail,  and  the  two  had  quite  a 
heated  argument  over  the  tracks. 

"But  how  do  you  know  it  is  an  Indian  trail?" 
demanded  Hawkins. 

"Because  I  know  I  know,"  cried  out  Lynch  in  a 
loud  voice. 

That  settled  it.  Horses  were  saddled  and  mules 
packed  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  the  rangers 
marched  over  to  the  suspicious  trail.  When  Ser- 
geant Hawkins  examined  the  trail  he  soon  discov- 
ered that  the  sign  had  been  made  by  mustangs  but 
could  not  convince  the  hard-headed  Irishman  until 
he  followed  the  trail  two  or  three  miles  and  showed 

51 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

him  the  mustang  herd  quietly  grazing  under  some 
shade  trees.  Uncle  Mike  did  not  mention  Indian 
trail  any  more  on  that  scout. 

Though  we  did  not  find  any  trails  or  Indians  the 
scouting  party  killed  two  black  bear,  several  deer 
and  about  fifteen  wild  turkey. 

Early  in  September,  1875,  Captain  Roberts  again 
ordered  Sergeant  Hawkins  to  take  fifteen  men  and 
make  a  ten  days'  scout  on  the  Brady  Mountains. 
To  my  great  joy  I  was  detailed  on  this  expedition. 
When  near  the  head  of  Scalp  Creek,  Menard  County, 
on  our  return  trip,  the  sergeant  told  the  boys  to 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  a  deer,  as  we  would  reach 
the  San  Saba  by  noon  and  would  camp  on  that 
stream  for  the  night.  We  had  not  traveled  far  be- 
fore Ed  Seiker  killed  a  nice  little  spiked  buck.  We 
strapped  him  on  one  of  the  pack  mules,  and  when 
we  arrived  at  the  river  we  came  upon  a  flock  of  half- 
grown  wild  turkeys.  Bill  Clements  leaped  from  his 
horse  and  killed  six  of  them. 

We  then  camped,  hobbled  and  sidelined  our 
horses  and  put  a  strong  guard  with  them.  While 
some  of  the  boys  were  gathering  wood  for  our  fire 
they  found  an  old  elm  stump  ten  to  twelve  feet 
high  with  bees  going  in  at  the  top.  One  of  the 
rangers  rode  over  to  Rufe  Winn's  ranch  and  bor- 
rowed an  ax  and  a  bucket.  When  he  returned  we 

52 


I  JOIN  THE  RANGERS 

cut  the  tree  and  got  more  honey  than  sixteen  men 
could  eat,  besides  filling  the  bucket  with  nice  sealed 
honey,  which  we  gave  to  Mrs.  Winn  in  return  for 
the  use  of  her  ax.  Then,  after  dinner,  out  came 
fishing  tackle  and,  using  venison  for  bait,  we  caught 
more  catfish  than  the  entire  crowd  could  eat. 

Hunting  conditions  in  those  days  were  ideal.  I 
have  known  a  single  scout  to  kill  three  or  four  bears 
on  a  single  trip.  The  companies  to  the  north  of  us 
were  never  out  of  buffalo  meat  in  season.  Then,  in 
the  fall,  one  could  gather  enough  pecans,  as  fine  as 
ever  grew,  in  half  a  day  to  last  the  company  a 
month.  I  have  seen  hundreds  of  bushels  of  the 
nuts  go  to  waste  because  there  was  no  one  to  gather 
them — besides  they  sold  on  the  market  for  fifty 
cents  per  bushel.  No  wonder  that  a  boy  that  loved 
the  woods  and  nature  was  charmed  and  fascinated 
with  the  lif e  of  the  Texas  Ranger.  It  was  a  picnic 
for  me  from  start  to  finish,  and  the  six  years  I  was 
with  the  battalion  were  the  happiest  and  most  in- 
teresting of  my  life. 

But  hunting  and  fishing  and  vacation  scouts  were 
not  the  sole  duties  of  a  ranger.  Pleasure  was  abun- 
dant, but  there  were  times  when  all  these  were  laid 
aside.  For  the  game  guns  and  the  fishing  rod  we 
exchanged  our  carbines  and  our  sixshooters  and 
engaged  in  hazardous  expeditions  after  marauding 

53 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

redskins.  I  was  soon  to  see  this  latter  aspect  of 
ranger  life,  for  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  1875, 
I  became  a  real  ranger  and  entered  upon  the  real 
work  of  our  battalion — that  of  protecting  the  fron- 
tier against  the  roving  Indians  and  engaging  them 
in  regular  pitched  battles. 


54 


CHAPTER  IV 
MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

The  latter  part  of  August,  1875,  Private  L.  P. 
Seiker  was  sent  on  detached  service  to  Fort  Mason, 
about  fifty  miles  due  east  of  our  camp.  While 
there  a  runner  came  in  from  Honey  Greek  with  the 
report  that  a  band  of  fifteen  Indians  had  raided  the 
John  Gamble  ranch  and  stolen  some  horses  within 
twenty-five  steps  of  the  ranch  house.  The  redskins 
appeared  on  their  raid  late  in  the  evening  and  the 
runner  reached  Mason  just  at  dark. 

Lam  Seiker  had  just  eaten  his  supper  and  was 
sitting  in  the  lobby  of  the  Frontier  Hotel  when  the 
message  came.  He  hurried  to  the  livery  stable, 
saddled  his  horse,  Old  Pete,  and  started  on  an  all- 
night  ride  for  the  company.  The  nights  in  August 
are  short,  but  Seiker  rode  into  our  camp  about  8 
o'clock  the  following  morning  and  reported  the 
presence  of  the  Indians. 

The  company  horses  were  out  under  herd  for  the 
day,  but  Captain  Roberts  sent  out  hurry  orders  for 
them.  Sergeant  Plunk  Murray  was  ordered  to  de- 
tail fifteen  men,  issue  them  ten  days'  rations  and 
one  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  each.  Second 
Sergeant  Jim  Hawkins,  Privates  Paul  Durham,  Nick 

55 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Donnelly,  Tom  Gillespie,  Mike  Lynch,  Andy  Wil- 
son, Henry  Maltimore,  Jim  Trout,  William  Kim- 
brough,  Silas  B.  Crump,  Ed  Seiker,  Jim  Day,  John 
Cupps  and  myself,  under  command  of  Captain 
Roberts,  were  selected  as  the  personnel  of  the  scout. 
As  can  be  imagined  I  was  delighted  with  my  good 
fortune  in  getting  on  the  party  and  looked  forward 
with  intense  satisfaction  to  my  first  brush  with 
Indians. 

The  mules  were  soon  packed  and  by  the  time  the 
horses  reached  camp  the  scout  was  ready.  Ser- 
geant Hawkins,  as  soon  as  the  men  had  saddled 
their  horses,  walked  over  to  the  captain,  saluted  and 
told  him  the  scout  was  ready.  Before  leaving  camp 
Captain  Roberts  called  to  Sergeant  Murray  and  told 
him  that  he  believed  the  Indians  had  about  as  many 
horses  as  they  could  well  get  away  with,  and  that 
they  would  probably  cross  the  San  Saba  River  near 
the  mouth  of  Scalp  Creek  and  follow  the  high  divide 
between  the  two  streams  on  their  westward  march 
back  into  the  plains.  If  the  redskins  did  not  travel 
that  way  the  captain  thought  they  would  go  out 
up  the  Big  Saline,  follow  the  divide  between  the 
North  Llano  and  San  Saba  Rivers  westward  and 
escape,  but  he  was  confident  the  band  would  travel 
up  the  divide  north  of  Menardville.  He  determined 
to  scout  that  way  himself,  and  instructed  Murray 

56 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

to  send  two  rangers  south  over  to  the  head  waters 
of  Bear  Greek  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  the  trail. 
These  two  scouts  were  to  repeat  their  operations 
the  next  day,  and  if  they  discovered  the  Indian  trail 
Murray  was  to  make  up  a  second  scout  and  follow 
the  redskins  vigorously. 

His  plan  outlined,  Captain  Roberts  gave  the  order 
to  mount,  and  we  rode  toward  Menardville,  making 
inquiry  about  the  Indians.  All  was  quiet  at  this 
little  frontier  village,  so  we  crossed  the  San  Saba 
River  just  below  the  town,  and  after  passing  the 
ruins  of  the  Spanish  Fort,  Captain  Roberts  halted 
his  men  and  prepared  to  send  out  trailers.  Two  of 
the  best  trailers  in  the  command  were  ordered  to 
proceed  about  four  hundred  yards  ahead  of  the 
party  and  keep  a  close  watch  for  pony  tracks  while 
they  traveled  due  north  at  a  good  saddle  horse  gait. 
The  main  body  of  men,  under  the  captain  himself, 
would  follow  directly  behind  the  outposts. 

Our  party  had  traveled  about  eight  or  nine  miles 
when  Captain  Roberts'  keen  eyes  discovered  a  lone 
pony  standing  with  his  head  down  straight  ahead 
of  us.  He  sighted  the  animal  before  the  trailers 
did,  and  remarked  to  us  that  there  the  trail  was. 
The  outposts  halted  when  they  saw  the  pony  and 
waited  for  us  to  come  up.  Sure  enough,  here  was 
the  Indian  trail  probably  twenty  yards  wide.  Cap- 

57 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

tain  Roberts  dismounted  and  walked  over  the  sign, 
scrutinizing  every  pony  track,  bunch  of  grass  and 
fallen  leaf.  He  then  examined  the  old  pony.  The 
animal  was  cut  with  a  lance,  with  his  back  sore 
and  his  feet  all  worn  out.  It  was  then  between  12 
and  1  o'clock,  and  the  captain  thought  the  Indians 
had  passed  that  way  about  sunrise,  for  the  blood 
and  sweat  on  the  horse  was  now  dry.  The  trail 
showed  the  raiders  were  driving  rather  fast  and 
were  probably  thirty-five  or  forty  miles  ahead  of  us. 
The  captain  decided  it  would  be  a  long  chase  and 
that  we  would  just  have  to  walk  them  down  if  we 
caught  them  at  all. 

There  was  no  water  on  tjiis  divide  so  we  took 
the  trail  without  stopping  for  dinner.  Captain 
Roberts  had  a  fine  saddle  horse,  Old  Rock,  and  we 
followed  the  trail  at  a  steady  gait  of  five  or  six  miles 
an  hour.  At  sundown  we  reached  the  old  govern- 
ment road  that  runs  from  Fort  McKavett  to  Fort 
Concho.  We  were  then  about  twelve  or  fifteen 
miles  south  of  Kickapoo  Springs,  so  we  turned  up 
the  road,  reaching  the  springs  late  at  night.  The 
horses  had  not  had  a  drop  of  water  since  leaving 
the  San  Saba  that  morning,  and,  facing  a  hot  August 
sun  all  day,  the  men  were  pretty  well  tired  out  when 
they  reached  camp,  had  supper  and  gotten  to  bed. 
We  estimated  we  had  ridden  about  sixty  miles  since 

58 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

leaving  camp.  During  the  day  Captain  Roberts' 
horse  cast  a  shoe,  so  Tom  Gillespie  shod  him  by 
firelight,  as  it  was  the  captain's  intention  to  resume 
the  trail  at  daylight. 

The  following  morning  Captain  Roberts  took  a 
southwest  course  from  Kickapoo  Springs  and  par- 
alleled the  Indian  trail  we  had  left  the  evening  be- 
fore. It  was  late  in  the  day  before  we  picked  the 
trail  up  again,  and  many  of  the  boys  were  afraid 
we  had  lost  it  altogether,  but  the  captain  laughed 
at  their  fears  and  never  doubted  that  we  should  find 
it  again.  The  Indians,  as  their  trail  showed,  were 
now  traveling  over  a  tolerably  rough  country,  which 
made  our  progress  slow.  About  noon  we  found 
some  rain  water,  and,  as  it  was  fearfully  hot,  we 
camped  for  dinner  and  to  give  the  horses  a  short 
rest. 

When  the  boys  went  out  to  catch  their  mounts 
we  found  that  we  had  camped  right  in  a  bed  of 
rattlesnakes.  Two  of  our  horses  had  been  bitten. 
Jim  Day's  Checo  had  a  head  on  him  as  big  as  a 
barrel,  while  the  captain's  horse,  Old  Rock,  had 
been  bitten  on  his  front  leg  just  above  the  ankle, 
and  it  had  swollen  up  to  his  body.  Neither  of  the 
animals  was  able  to  walk.  Jim  Day  could  not  be 
left  alone  in  that  Indian  country,  so  Captain  Roberts 
detailed  Private  Cupps  to  stay  with  Day  until  the 

59 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

horses  died  or  were  able  to  travel, — in  either  case 
they  were  then  to  return  to  camp.  The  animals 
soon  recovered  and  Day  and  Cupps  beat  us  back 
to  camp. 

The  pack  loads  were  now  doubled  on  one  mule 
so  Captain  Roberts  could  ride  the  other.  Reduced 
to  thirteen  men,  we  followed  the  Indians  until  night. 
It  was  a  hard  day  on  both  men  and  beasts,  so  we 
camped  where  we  found  a  little  water  in  a  draw 
that  drained  into  the  South  Goncho  River.  Consid- 
ering the  way  we  had  come  the  captain  thought  we 
had  covered  sixty  miles  during  the  day's  ride.  We 
had  two  rather  old  men  on  the  scout,  Mike  Lynch 
and  Andy  Wilson,  and  they  were  nearly  all  in.  I 
awoke  Andy  at  2  a.  m.  to  go  on  guard.  The  poor 
fellow  was  so  stiff  he  could  hardly  stand,  and  I 
tried  to  get  him  to  go  back  to  bed,  telling  him  I 
would  stand  his  guard,  but  he  was  game,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  hobbled  out  to  the  horses  and  re- 
lieved me. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  were  up  and  traveling. 
The  mule  Captain  Roberts  was  riding  did  not  step 
out  as  fast  as  Old  Rock  had  done,  and  the  boys 
had  an  easier  time  keeping  up.  We  camped  at 
noon  on  just  enough  rain  water  to  do  us  and  took 
up  the  trail  again  after  dinner.  The  trailers 
stopped  suddenly,  and  as  we  rode  up  Captain 

60 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

Roberts  asked  what  was  the  matter.  They  said  it 
seemed  as  though  the  Indians  at  this  point  had 
rounded  up  the  horses  and  held  them  for  some  cause 
or  other. 

The  captain  dismounted  and  swept  the  country 
with  his  field  glasses.  He  circled  around  where  the 
horses  had  been  standing  and  found  where  a  lone 
Indian  had  walked  straight  away  from  the  animals. 
He  followed  the  tracks  to  an  old  live  oak  tree  that 
had  been  blown  down.  Then  the  reason  for  the 
stop  became  apparent:  the  Indians  had  sighted  a 
herd  of  mustangs  grazing  just  beyond  this  tree  and 
the  redskin  had  slipped  up  on  them  and  killed  a 
big  brown  mare.  Captain  Roberts  picked  up  the 
cartridge  shell  the  old  brave  had  used  and  found  it 
to  be  from  a  .50  caliber  buffalo  gun.  We  also  found 
the  mustang,  from  which  the  Indians  had  cut  both 
sides  of  ribs  and  one  hind  quarter. 

Captain  Roberts  was  much  elated. 

"Boys,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  "we  now  have 
ninety-five  chances  out  of  a  hundred  to  catch  those 
Indians.  They  will  not  carry  this  raw  meat  long 
before  stopping  to  cook  some.  We  have  followed 
them  now  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and 
they  have  never  stopped  to  build  a  fire.  They  are 
tired  and  hungry  and  probably  know  where  there 
is  water  not  far  away." 

61 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

He  spoke  with  such  confidence  that  I  marveled 
at  his  knowledge  of  the  Indian  habits. 

We  were  now  on  the  extreme  western  draw  of 
the  South  Goncho  River,  far  above  the  point  at  which 
the  water  breaks  out  into  a  running  stream. 
Finally  the  trail  led  out  on  that  level  and  vast 
tract  of  country  between  the  head  of  South  Goncho 
and  the  Pecos  on  the  west.  These  Indians  turned 
a  little  north  from  the  general  direction  they  had 
been  traveling,  and  all  of  a  sudden  we  came  to  some 
rock  water  holes. 

Here  the  redskins  had  built  three  fires,  cooked 
both  sides  of  the  mustang  ribs  and  had  picked  them 
clean.  From  this  high  table  land  they  could  look 
back  over  their  trail  for  fifteen  miles.  The  captain 
thought  they  had  been  there  early  in  the  morning, 
as  the  fires  were  out  and  the  ashes  cold.  We  did 
not  lose  any  time  at  this  camp,  but  hurried  on,  fol- 
lowing the  trail  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  the 
trailers  again  halted.  When  we  came  up  we  found 
that  the  trail  that  had  been  going  west  for  nearly 
two  hundred  miles  had  suddenly  turned  straight 
north. 

Captain  Roberts  seemed  to  be  puzzled  for  a  time, 
and  said  he  did  not  understand  this  move.  About 
one  mile  north  there  was  a  small  motte  of  mesquite 
timber.  This  he  examined  through  his  glasses, 

62 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

seeming  to  me  to  examine  each  tree  separately. 
The  trail  led  straight  into  these  trees,  and  we  fol- 
lowed it.  In  the  mesquite  timber  we  found  the 
Indians  had  hacked  some  bushes  partly  down,  bent 
them  over,  cut  up  the  horse  meat  they  had  been 
carrying  with  them  into  tiny  strips,  strung  it  on 
the  bushes  and,  building  a  fire  beneath  them,  had 
barbecued  their  flesh.  The  redskins  had  made  the 
prettiest  scafelo  for  meat  cooking  I  ever  saw.  We 
found  plenty  of  fire  here,  and  the  captain  was  sure 
we  would  have  an  Indian  fight  on  the  morrow. 

From  the  trees  the  trail  swung  west  again.  The 
redskins  were  traveling  slowly  now,  as  they  evi- 
dently thought  they  were  out  of  danger.  Just  be- 
fore sundown  the  scout  halted,  and  we  were  or- 
dered not  to  let  any  smoke  go  up  lest  the  band  we 
were  trailing  should  spot  it  and  take  alarm.  As 
soon  as  we  had  cooked  our  supper  Captain  Roberts 
had  the  fires  carefully  extinguished.  It  had  been 
a  good  season  on  the  table  lands  and  there  were 
many  ponds  filled  with  water,  some  of  them  one 
hundred  yards  wide.  We  camped  right  on  the  edge 
of  one  of  these  big  holes  and  where  the  Indians  had 
waded  into  it  the  water  was  still  muddy.  The  boys 
were  cautioned  not  to  strike  a  match  that  night  as 
we  were  certain  the  Indians  were  not  far  ahead  of 


63 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

us.  We  covered  between  forty  and  fifty  miles 
that  day. 

Camp  was  called  at  daybreak.  We  dared  not 
build  a  fire,  so  we  could  have  no  breakfast.  We 
saddled  our  horses  and  again  took  the  trail.  Old 
Jennie,  the  pack  mule,  was  packed  for  the  last  time 
on  earth,  for  she  was  killed  in  the  fight  that  shortly 
followed.  As  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to  see  a 
pony  track  two  of  the  boys  traced  it  on  foot  and 
led  their  horses,  the  remainder  of  our  party  coming 
along  slowly  on  horseback.  By  sunrise  we  were 
all  riding  and  following  the  trail  rapidly,  eager  to 
sight  the  marauding  thieves.  We  had  traveled  some 
five  or  six  miles  when  Paul  Durham  called  Captain 
Roberts'  attention  to  a  dark  object  ahead  that  looked 
as  if  it  were  moving.  The  captain  brought  his  field 
glasses  to  bear  on  the  object  specified  and  exclaimed 
it  was  the  Indians. 

He  ordered  the  boys  to  dismount  at  once,  tighten 
their  cinches,  leave  their  coats  and  slickers  and 
make  ready  to  fight.  As  we  carried  out  this  order 
a  distressing  stillness  came  over  the  men.  Captain 
Roberts  and  Sergeant  Hawkins  were  the  only  ones 
of  our  party  that  had  ever  been  in  an  Indian  fight, 
and  I  suppose  the  hearts  of  all  of  us  green,  un- 
seasoned warriors  beat  a  little  more  rapidly  than 
usual  at  the  prospect  of  soon  smelling  powder. 

64 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

Captain  Roberts  called  out  to  us  in  positive  tones 
not  to  leave  him  until  he  told  us  to  go,  and  not  to 
draw  a  gun  or  pistol  until  ordered,  declaring  that 
he  wanted  no  mistake  on  the  eve  of  battle.  He 
ordered  the  pack  mule  caught  and  led  until  we  went 
into  the  fight,  when  she  was  to  be  turned  loose. 

The  Indians  \vere  out  on  an  open  prairie  dotted 
here  and  there  with  small  skirts  of  mesquite  timber. 
The  captain  thought  our  only  chance  was  to  ride 
double  file  straight  at  them  in  the  hope  they  would 
not  look  back  and  discover  us.  We  moved  forward 
briskly,  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  we  got  within 
four  or  five  hundred  yards  of  the  redskins  before 
they  sighted  us. 

At  once  there  was  a  terrible  commotion.  The 
Indians  rounded  up  their  stock  and  caught  fresh 
mounts  almost  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  Then, 
led  by  their  old  chief,  they  took  positions  on  a  little 
elevated  ground  some  two  hundred  yards  beyond 
the  loose  horses.  The  redskins  stationed  themselves 
about  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  apart,  their  battle  line 
when  formed  being  about  one  hundred  yards  wide. 
As  each  warrior  took  his  station  he  dismounted, 
stood  behind  his  horse  and  prepared  to  fire  when 
given  the  signal. 

The  captain  with  a  smile  turned  to  us  and  said, 


65 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

"Boys,  they  are  going  to  fight  us.  See  how  beau- 
tifully the  old  chief  forms  his  line  of  battle." 

From  a  little  boy  I  had  longed  to  be  a  ranger  and 
fight  the  Indians.  At  last,  at  last,  I  was  up  against 
the  real  thing  and  with  not  so  much  as  an  umbrella 
behind  which  to  hide.  I  was  nervous.  I  was  aw- 
fully nervous. 

We  were  now  within  one  hundred  steps  of  the 
redskins.  Then  came  the  order  to  dismount,  shoot 
low  and  kill  as  many  horses  as  possible.  The  cap- 
tain said  as  we  came  up  that  every  time  we  got  an 
Indian  on  foot  in  that  country  we  were  sure  to  kill 
him.  With  the  first  shot  everybody,  Indian  and 
ranger,  began  firing  and  yelling. 

In  a  minute  we  had  killed  two  horses  and  one 
Indian  was  seen  to  be  badly  wounded.  In  another 
minute  the  redskins  had  mounted  their  horses  and 
were  fleeing  in  every  direction.  Captain  Roberts 
now  ordered  us  to  mount  and  follow  them.  The 
roar  of  the  guns  greatly  excited  my  pony  and  he 
turned  round  and  round.  I  lost  a  little  time  in 
mounting,  but  when  I  did  get  settled  in  the  saddle 
I  saw  an  Indian  running  on  foot.  He  carried  a 
Winchester  in  his  hand  and  waved  to  another  In- 
dian who  was  riding.  The  latter  turned  and  took 
the  one  on  foot  up  behind  him.  As  they  started 
away  for  a  race  I  thought  to  myself  that  no  grass 

66 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

pony  on  earth  could  carry  two  men  and  get  away 
from  me  and  Old  Goley.  The  Indians  had  a  good 
animal,  but  I  gradually  closed  on  them.  The  red- 
skin riding  behind  would  point  his  gun  back  and 
fire  at  me,  holding  it  in  one  hand.  I  retaliated  by 
firing  at  him  every  time  I  could  get  a  cartridge  in 
my  old  Sharps  carbine.  I  looked  back  and  saw  Ed 
Seiker  coming  to  my  aid  as  fast  as  old  Dixie  would 
run.  He  waved  encouragement  to  me. 

Finally  the  old  brave  ceased  shooting,  and  as  I 
drew  a  little  closer  he  held  out  his  gun  at  arm's 
length  and  let  it  drop,  probably  thinking  I  would 
stop  to  get  it.  I  just  gave  it  a  passing  glance  as  I 
galloped  by.  He  then  held  out  what  looked  to  be 
a  fine  rawhide  rope  and  dropped  that,  but  I  never 
took  the  bait.  I  just  kept  closing  in  on  him.  He 
now  strung  his  bow  and  began  using  his  arrows 
pretty  freely.  Finally  he  saw  I  was  going  to  catch 
him,  and  turned  quickly  into  a  little  grove  of  mes- 
quite  timber.  I  was  considered  a  fairly  good  brush 
rider,  and  as  we  went  in  among  the  trees  I  drew 
right  up  within  twenty  steps  of  the  brave,  jumped 
from  my  mount  and  made  a  sort  of  random  shot 
at  the  horse,  Indian  and  all.  The  big  .50  caliber 
bullet  struck  the  Indian  pony  just  where  its  head 
couples  on  its  neck,  passed  through  the  head  and 


67 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

came  out  over  the  left  eye.  It  killed  the  horse  at 
once  and  it  fell  forward  twenty  feet. 

The  old  warrier  hit  the  ground  running,  but  I 
jumped  my  horse  and  ran  after  him.  As  I  passed 
the  dead  horse  I  saw  the  front  rider  struggling  to 
get  from  under  it.  To  my  surprise  I  saw  he  was 
a  white  boy  between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  old 
with  long  bright  red  hair. 

By  this  time  Ed  Seiker  had  arrived  and  was  dis- 
mounting. The  fugitive  warrior  now  peeped  from 
behind  a  tree  and  I  got  a  fine  shot  at  his  face  but 
overshot  him  six  inches,  cutting  off  a  limb  just 
over  his  head.  He  broke  to  run  again,  and  as  he 
came  into  view  Ed  placed  a  bullet  between  his 
shoulders.  He  was  dead  in  a  minute.  As  Ed  and 
I  walked  up  to  the  dead  Indian  we  found  he  had 
also  been  shot  in  one  ankle  and  his  bow  had  been 
partly  shot  in  two.  In  his  quiver  he  had  left  only 
three  arrows. 

Seiker  and  I  hurried  back  to  the  dead  horse  to 
help  the  white  boy,  but  he  had  extricated  himself 
and  disappeared.  We  then  returned  to  the  dead 
warrior  and  Seiker  scalped  him.  We  took  the  In- 
dian's bow  shield  and  a  fine  pair  of  moccasins.  I 
also  found  a  fine  lance  near  where  the  horse  fell, 
and  I  presume  it  was  carried  by  the  white  boy.  We 
found  the  redskin  had  no  Winchester  cartridges, 

68 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

and  this  was  why  he  dropped  the  gun — he  could 
not  cany  it  and  use  his  bow.  We  went  back  over 
the  trail  but  were  unable  to  find  the  gun  the  brave 
had  dropped  as  a  bait. 

By  noon  that  day  the  boys  had  all  returned  to 
where  the  fight  had  begun  and  the  Indian  horses 
had  been  left.  Jim  Hawkins  and  Paul  Durham  cap- 
tured a  Mexican  boy  about  fifteen  years  old.  He 
looked  just  like  an  Indian,  had  long  plaited  hair 
down  his  back,  was  bare  headed,  wore  moccasins 
and  a  breech-clout.  Had  he  been  in  front  of  me  I 
would  surely  have  killed  him  for  a  redskin.  Cap- 
tain Roberts  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  and  from  this 
boy  he  learned  that  the  Indians  were  Lipans  that 
lived  in  Old  Mexico.  He  was  taken  back  to  our 
camp  and  finally  his  uncle  came  and  took  him 
home.  He  had  been  captured  while  herding  oxen 
near  old  Fort  Clark,  Texas,  and  an  elder  brother, 
who  was  with  him  at  the  time,  had  been  killed. 

The  boys  were  then  sent  back  by  Captain  Roberts 
to  find  the  white  lad  that  had  been  with  the  Indian 
Seiker  had  killed.  Though  we  searched  carefully 
we  could  find  no  trace  of  the  mysterious  youngster. 
Some  years  later  I  learned  that  this  boy's  name  was 
Fischer  and  that  his  parents  went  into  Old  Mexico 
and  ransomed  him.  He  was  from  Llano  County, 
and  after  his  return  he  wrote,  or  had  written,  a 

69 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

small  pamphlet  that  contained  an  account  of  his  life 
with  the  Indians.  He  told  of  being  with  old  Chief 
Magoosh  in  this  fight.  He  declared  he  hid  in  the 
grass  within  sight  of  the  rangers  while  they  were 
hunting  him,  but  was  afraid  to  show  himself  for 
fear  of  being  killed. 

When  the  rangers  had  all  gathered  after  the  fight 
our  pack  mule,  Jennie,  was  missing.  We  supposed 
in  the  run  that  she  had  followed  the  Indians  off. 
Six  months  later  Ed  Seiker  was  detailed  to  pilot  a 
body  of  United  States  soldiers  over  that  same  coun- 
try to  pick  out  a  road  to  the  Pecos  River.  He  vis- 
ited our  old  battlefield  and  found  Jennie's  carcass. 
She  had  a  bullet  hole  in  the  center  of  her  forehead. 
The  Indians  in  shooting  back  at  their  attackers 
probably  hit  her  with  a  chance  shot.  The  pack 
saddle  was  still  strapped  to  her  body,  but  wolves 
had  eaten  all  the  supplies.  Five  hundred  rounds  of 
ammunition  were  still  with  her,  showing  that  no 
one  had  seen  her  since  the  day  of  her  death. 

Lacking  Jennie's  supplies,  we  did  not  have  a 
blooming  thing  to  eat  but  the  barbecued  horse  meat 
we  had  captured  from  the  Indians.  This  had  no 
salt  on  it,  and  I  just  could  not  swallow  it.  In  the 
fight  we  killed  three  horses  and  one  Indian  and  cap- 
tured the  Mexican  lad.  At  least  two  redskins  were 
badly  wounded,  and  as  victors  we  captured  fifty- 

70 


MY  FIRST  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS 

eight  head  of  horses  and  mules,  several  Indian  sad- 
dles and  bridles  and  many  native  trinkets.  Not  a 
man  or  a  horse  of  our  party  was  hurt,  the  pack 
mule  being  our  only  fatality.  All  voted  Captain 
Roberts  the  best  man  in  the  world. 

We  turned  our  faces  homeward,  hungry  and  tired 
but  highly  elated  over  our  success.  The  second  day 
after  the  fight  we  reached  Wash  Delong's  ranch  on 
the  head  waters  of  the  South  Concho  River.  Mr. 
Delong,  a  fine  frontiersman,  killed  a  beef  for  us 
and  furnished  us  with  flour  and  coffee  without  cost. 
Three  days  later  we  were  back  at  our  camp  at  Los 
Moris.  The  stolen  stock  was  returned  to  their  own- 
ers, and  thus  ended  my  first  campaign  against  the 
Indians. 


71 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  MASON  COUNTY  WAR 

Soon  after  our  return  from  our  first  brush  with 
Indians  we  were  introduced  to  yet  another  phase 
of  ranger  activity — the  quieting  of  feuds,  for  not 
only  were  the  rangers  employed  in  protecting  the 
frontiers  against  the  Indians,  but  they  were  also 
frequently  called  upon  to  preserve  law  and  order 
within  the  towns  and  cities  of  the  state.  In  those 
early  days  men's  passions  were  high  and  easily 
aroused.  In  a  country  where  all  men  went  armed, 
recourse  to  fire  arms  was  frequent,  and  these  feuds 
sometimes  led  to  active  warfare  between  the  ad- 
herents of  each  party  to  the  great  discomfort  of 
the  citizens  among  whom  such  a  miniature  war  was 
staged. 

Mason  and  the  adjoining  county,  Gillespie,  had 
been  settled  by  Germans  in  the  early  history  of  the 
state.  These  settlers  were  quiet,  peaceful  and  made 
most  excellent  citizens,  loyal  to  their  adopted  coun- 
try and  government  when  undisturbed.  Most  of 
these  Germans  engaged  in  stock  raising  and  were 
sorely  tried  by  the  rustlers  and  Indians  that  com- 
mitted many  depredations  upon  their  cattle. 

In  the  latter  part  of  September,  1875,  Tim  Wil- 

72 


THE  MASON  COUNTY  WAR 

liamson,  a  prominent  cattleman  living  in  Mason 
County,  was  arrested  on  a  charge  of  cattle  theft 
by  John  Worley,  a  deputy  sheriff  of  that  county. 
Previous  to  that  time  there  had  been  a  number  of 
complaints  about  loss  of  cattle,  and  the  Germans 
charged  that  many  of  their  cattle  had  been  stolen 
and  the  brands  burned.  Much  indignation  had  been 
aroused  among  the  stockmen  of  the  county  and 
threats  of  violence  against  the  thieves  were  com- 
mon. 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  Williamson's  arrest  on 
charge  of  cattle  thieving  became  known  a  large  mob 
formed  and  set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  deputy  sheriff 
and  his  prisoner.  On  his  way  to  Mason,  Worley 
was  overtaken  by  this  posse.  When  he  saw  the 
pursuing  men  Williamson  divined  their  purpose  and 
begged  the  sheriff  to  let  him  run  in  an  effort  to  save 
his  life.  Worley  refused  and,  it  is  said,  drew  his 
pistol  and  deliberately  shot  Williamson's  horse 
through  the  loin,  causing  it  to  fall.  Unarmed  and 
unmounted  Williamson  was  killed  without  a  chance 
to  protect  himself  and  without  any  pretense  of  a 
trial.  After  the  murder  Worley  and  the  mob  dis- 
appeared. 

Whether  or  not  Williamson  was  guilty  of  the 
charge  against  him,  he  had  friends  who  bitterly 
resented  the  deputy  sheriff's  refusal  to  allow  the 

73 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

murdered  man  a  chance  for  his  life  and  his  death 
caused  a  great  deal  of  excitement  and  bitter  com- 
ment in  the  county.  A  man  named  Scott  Gooley, 
an  ex-ranger  of  Captain  Perry's  Company  "D,"  was 
a  particular  friend  of  Williamson  and  his  family. 
Cooley  had  quit  the  ranger  service  at  the  time  of 
his  friend's  murder  and  was  cultivating  a  farm  near 
Menardville.  He  had  worked  for  the  dead  man  and 
had  made  two  trips  up  the  trail  with  him.  While 
working  with  the  murdered  cattleman  Cooley  had 
contracted  a  bad  case  of  typhoid  fever  and  had 
been  nursed  back  to  health  by  Mrs.  Williamson's 
own  hands. 

When  the  news  of  Tim  Williamson's  murder 
reached  Scott  Cooley  he  was  much  incensed,  and 
vowed  vengeance  against  the  murderers  of  his 
friend.  He  left  his  farm  at  once  and,  saddling  his 
pony,  rode  into  the  town  of  Mason  heavily  armed. 
He  had  worked  out  a  careful  plan  of  his  own  and 
proceeded  to  put  it  into  execution  immediately  on 
his  arrival.  Stabling  his  horse  in  a  livery  stable, 
he  registered  at  the  hotel.  As  he  was  entirely  un- 
known in  Mason,  Cooley  remained  in  town  several 
days  without  creating  any  suspicion.  He  proved 
himself  a  good  detective,  and  soon  discovered  that 
the  sheriff  and  his  deputy  were  the  leaders  in  the 
mob  that  had  killed  his  friend.  Biding  his  time  and 

74 


THE  MASON  COUNTY  WAR 

pursuing  his  investigations  he  soon  learned  the 
names  of  every  man  in  the  posse  that  murdered 
Williamson. 

His  information  complete,  Gooley  decided  upon 
action.  He  mounted  his  pony  and  rode  out  to  the 
home  of  John  Worley,  the  deputy  sheriff  that  had 
refused  Williamson  a  chance  to  flee  for  his  life. 
Gooley  found  Worley  engaged  in  cleaning  out  a 
well.  The  avenger  dismounted,  asked  for  a  drink 
of  water  and  entered  into  conversation  with  the 
unsuspecting  man.  Finally,  as  Worley  was  draw- 
ing his  assistant  out  of  the  well,  Cooley  asked  him 
If  his  name  was  John  Worley.  The  deputy  sheriff 
replied  that  it  was.  Gooley  then  declared  his  mis- 
sion and  shot  the  sheriff  to  death. 

At  the  first  crack  of  Cooley's  pistol  Worley  let 
the  windlass  go,  and  the  man  he  was  drawing  up 
3ut  of  the  well  fell  back  about  twenty-five  feet  into 
it.  Gooley  deliberately  stooped  down,  cut  off  both 
3f  Worley's  ears,  put  them  in  his  pocket,  and  gal- 
loped off.  Victim  number  one  was  chalked  up  to 
Williamson's  credit.  Making  a  quick  ride  across 
Mason  County  to  the  western  edge  of  Llano  County, 
Cooley  waylaid  and  killed  Pete  Brader,  the  second 
3n  his  list  of  mob  members. 

These  two  murders  struck  terror  into  the  hearts 
rf  nearly  every  citizen  of  Mason  County.  No  one 

75 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

could  tell  who  would  be  the  next  victim  of  the  un- 
erring aim  of  Scott  Cooley's  rifle.  The  whole 
county  rose  up  in  arms  to  protect  themselves.  Ter- 
rified lest  he  be  the  next  victim  of  the  avenger, 
Cooley,  the  sheriff  of  Mason  County  promptly  left 
Mason  and  never  returned.  Tim  Williamson  had 
other  friends  anxious  to  avenge  him,  and  the  kill- 
ing of  Rrader  was  their  rallying  signal.  John  and 
Mose  Reard,  George  Gladden,  and  John  Ringgold 
immediately  joined  Cooley  in  his  work  of  ven- 
geance. The  gang  rode  into  the  town  of  Mason, 
and  in  a  fight  with  a  posse  of  citizens,  killed  an- 
other man. 

Fearing  the  outbreak  of  a  real  feud  war  in  Mason, 
the  Governor  of  Texas  ordered  Major  Jones  to  the 
relief  of  the  frightened  citizens.  The  order  reached 
Major  Jones  while  he  was  on  his  way  down  the  line 
near  the  head  of  the  Guadalupe  River.  He  at  once 
turned  his  company  back,  and  with  a  detachment 
of  ten  men  from  Company  "D"  he  marched  to 
Mason.  Company  "A,"  Major  Jones'  escort,  was 
then  commanded  by  Captain  Ira  Long,  and  the 
thirty  men  in  that  company  and  the  ten  boys  of 
Company  "D"  gave  the  major  forty  men  for  his 
relief  expedition. 

Refore  the  rangers  could  reach  Mason,  the  sher- 
iff's party  had  a  fight  with  Cooley's  gang  down  on 

76 


THE  MASON  COUNTY  WAR 

he  Llano  River  and  killed  Mose  Beard.  On  his 
rrival  in  Mason,  Major  Jones  sent  scouts  in  every 
lirection  to  hunt  Gooley.  He  kept  this  up  for 
tearly  two  weeks  but  without  result.  He  finally 
earned  that  nearly  the  whole  of  his  command, 
specially  the  Company  "D"  boys  that  had  ranged 
vith  Cooley,  was  in  sympathy  with  the  outlaw  and 
vas  making  no  serious  attempt  to  locate  or  imperil 
dm.  It  was  even  charged  that  some  of  the  Com- 
>any  "D"  rangers  met  Cooley  at  night  on  the  out- 
kirts  of  Mason  and  told  him  they  did  not  care  if 
te  killed  every  d — d  Dutchman  in  Mason  County 
hat  formed  part  of  the  mob  that  had  murdered 
iVilliamson. 

Major  Jones  saw  he  would  have  to  take  drastic 
teps  at  once.  He  drew  up  his  whole  force  of  forty 
nen  and  made  them  an  eloquent  speech.  He  said 
te  had  a  special  pride  in  the  Frontier  Battalion  and 
vas  making  it  his  life's  study  and  that  he  person- 
illy  had  a  kindly  feeling  for  every  man  in  the 
ervice.  He  then  reminded  the  men  in  the  most 
eeling  manner  of  the  oath  they  had  taken  to  pro- 
ect  the  State  of  Texas  against  all  her  enemies  what- 
soever,— an  oath  every  true  man  was  bound  to 
lonor.  He  declared  he  knew  many  of  the  com- 
nand  had  a  friendly  feeling  for  Scott  Cooley,  espe- 
cially those  boys  who  had  shared  the  life  of  a  ranger 

77 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

with  him,  and  that  he,  himself,  felt  keenly  the  posi- 
tion in  which  they  were  placed.  While  Tim  Wil- 
liamson had  met  a  horrible  death  at  the  hands  of  a 
relentless  mob,  that  did  not  justify  Gooley  in  killing 
people  in  a  private  war  of  vengeance  in  defiance  of 
the  law  and  the  rangers. 

As  the  climax  of  his  speech  the  major  said,  "Men, 
I  now  have  a  proposition  to  make  to  you.  If  every 
man  here  who  is  in  sympathy  with  Scott  Cooley  and 
his  gang  and  who  does  not  wish  to  pursue  him  to 
the  bitter  end  will  step  out  of  ranks  I  wiU  issue 
him  an  honorable  discharge  and  let  him  quit  the 
service  clean." 

The  major  paused  and  about  fifteen  men  stepped 
to  the  front. 

"Gentlemen,"  continued  Major  Jones,  "those  who 
do  not  avail  themselves  of  this  opportunity  I  shall 
expect  to  use  all  diligence  and  strength  in  helping 
me  to  break  up  or  capture  these  violators  of  the 
law." 

After  the  discharge  of  the  Cooley  sympathizers, 
the  rangers  went  to  work  with  a  new  vigor,  and 
finally  captured  George  Gladden  and  John  Ringgold. 
Gladden  was  sent  to  the  state  penitentiary  for 
twenty-five  years,  while  Ringgold  received  a  life  sen- 
tence. Probably  Scott  Gooley  was  informed  of 
Major  Jones'  appeal  to  the  rangers,  for  he  became 

78 


THE  MASON  COUNTY  WAR 

less  active  around  Mason  after  this.  John  Beard, 
it  was  reported,  skipped  Texas  and  went  to  Arizona. 

Soon  after  Cooley  killed  John  Worley,  Norman 
Rodgers  got  permission  from  Captain  Roberts  to 
ride  over  to  Joe  Franks'  cow  outfit  to  exchange  his 
horse  for  a  better  one.  When  Rodgers  rode  into 
the  cowboy  camp  he  noticed  a  man  resting  under  a 
tree  near  the  fire.  The  stranger  called  one  of  the 
cowboys  and  asked  him  who  Norman  was.  As 
Rodgers  left  camp  this  man  followed  him  and  asked 
if  he  were  one  of  Roberts'  rangers  and  if  he  knew 
"Major"  Reynolds.  Rodgers  replied  that  he  knew 
Reynolds  very  well. 

The  man  then  declared  he  w^as  Scott  Cooley  and, 
reaching  into  his  pocket,  he  pulled  out  John  Wor- 
ley's  ears. 

"You  take  these  ears  to  'Major'  Reynolds  with 
my  compliments,  but  don't  you  tell  anybody  you 
saw  me." 

Rodgers  duly  delivered  the  ears  and  Reynolds 
cautioned  him  to  say  nothing  about  them.  Forty 
years  afterward,  at  an  old  settlers  reunion  in  Sweet- 
water,  Norman  Rodgers  mentioned  this  incident  in 
a  speech — he  had  kept  his  promise  to  Cooley  and 
Reynolds  all  those  years. 

Having  lost  his  friends  and  his  sympathizers  in 
the  rangers,  Cooley  returned  to  Rlanco  County, 

79 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

where  he  had  formerly  lived.  Here  he  was  stricken 
with  brain  fever,  and  though  tenderly  nursed, 
shielded  by  his  friends,  he  died  without  ever  being 
brought  to  trial  for  his  killings.  This  ended  the 
Mason  County  War,  but  before  the  feud  died  some 
ten  or  twelve  men  were  killed  and  a  race  war  nar- 
rowly averted. 


80 


CHAPTER  VI 
MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

Despite  their  usefulness  in  protecting  the  frontiers 
and  in  maintaining  law  and  order,  the  Texas 
Rangers  have  always  had  to  fight  more  or  less 
strenuously  to  obtain  the  necessary  appropriation 
for  their  annual  maintenance  from  the  State  Legis- 
lature. Whenever  the  appropriation  is  small  there 
is  but  one  remedy, — reduce  the  personnel  of  each 
company  to  the  lowest  limits  possible.  In  the  fall 
of  1875  the  Adjutant-General  notified  the  captains 
all  along  the  line  to  reduce  their  companies  to 
twenty  men  each  for  the  winter  at  the  end  of  the 
current  quarter.  As  the  day  for  reduction  arrived 
there  were  some  anxious  moments  among  the  men 
of  Company  "D"  as  no  one  knew  just  who  was  to 
be  retained  in  the  service. 

On  December  1st  Captain  Roberts  formed  the 
command  in  line  and  explained  it  was  his  sad  duty 
to  reduce  the  company  to  twenty  men,  and  an- 
nounced that  the  orderly  sergeant  would  read  the 
names  of  those  to  be  retained  in  the  company.  The 
sergeant  then  stepped  forward  and  began  to  read. 
First  Sergeant  Plunk  Murray,  Second  Sergeant 
James  Hawkins,  First  Corporal  Lam  Seiker,  Sec- 

81 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

ond  Corporal  Tom  Griffin,  and  Privates  Charles 
Nevill,  Tom  Gillespie,  Nick  Donley,  Jim  Trout, 
Henry  Maltimore,  Kit  Maltimore,  Jack  Martin, 
W.  T.  Clements,  Ed  Seiker,  Andy  Wilson,  J.  W. 
Bell,  Norman  Rodgers,  Dock  Long,  Tom  Mead, 
Frank  Hill,  and  Jim  Gillett  were  the  lucky  ones  to 
be  retained  in  the  command.  The  remainder  of 
the  company  was  thereupon  discharged.  My  relief 
may  be  imagined  when  my  name  was  read  out,  for 
I  had  learned  to  love  the  ranger  life  and  was  loth 
to  quit  it. 

After  reduction  we  went  into  winter  camp  in  a 
bend  of  the  San  Saba  River  about  three  miles  east 
of  Menardville.  In  the  river  bottom  was  plenty  of 
good  timber,  so  each  mess  of  five  men  built  a  log 
cabin,  sixteen  to  eighteen  feet  square,  for  their 
occupancy.  These  cabins,  each  with  a  chimney  and 
a  fireplace,  formed  the  western  side  of  our  horse 
corral  and  made  most  comfortable  winter  abodes. 
During  the  winter  the  boys  played  many  tricks 
upon  each  other,  for  there  were  no  Indian  raids 
during  the  time  we  were  in  this  winter  camp.  One 
of  the  favorite  stunts  was  to  extract  the  bullet  from 
a  cartridge,  take  out  the  powder  and  wrap  it  in  a 
rag,  and  then,  while  the  inmates  of  a  given  cabin 
would  be  quietly  smoking  or  reading  or  talking 
around  their  fire,  climb  upon  the  roof  and  drop  the 

82 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

rag  down  the  chimney.  When  the  powder  exploded 
in  the  fire  the  surprised  rangers  would  fall  back- 
ward off  their  benches, — to  the  huge  glee  of  the 
prank  player.  At  other  times  a  couple  of  rangers 
would  post  themselves  outside  a  neighbor's  cabin 
and  begin  to  yell,  "Fire!  Fire!!"  at  the  top  of  their 
lungs.  If  the  cabin  owners  did  not  stand  in  the 
doorway  to  protect  it  all  the  rangers  in  camp  would 
rush  up  and  throw  bedding,  cooking  utensils,  sad- 
dles and  bridles,  guns  and  pistols  outside  as  quickly 
as  they  could.  In  a  jiffy  the  cabin  would  be  cleaned 
out  and  the  victims  of  the  joke  would  have  to  lug 
all  their  belongings  back  in  again. 

But  not  all  our  time  was  spent  in  practical  joking. 
There  were  many  rangers  of  a  studious  mind,  and 
during  the  long  winter  evenings  they  pored  over 
their  books.  Several  of  our  boys,  by  their  study 
here  and  at  other  leisure  hours,  qualified  themselves 
for  doctors,  lawyers,  and  professional  callings.  And 
there  were  several  writers  in  camp  that  contributed 
more  or  less  regularly  to  the  magazines  and  news- 
papers. 

One  of  the  rangers,  Nick  Donley,  was  a  baker  by 
trade,  and  he  soon  built  a  Dutch  oven  and  made 
bread  for  the  rangers.  We  pooled  our  flour  and 
had  fresh,  warm  bread  every  morning.  This  was 
so  good  and  we  ate  so  much  of  it  that  our  allow- 

83 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

ance  of  flour  would  not  last  for  the  period  issued, 
and  Captain  Roberts  was  compelled  to  order  the 
bake  oven  torn  down.  Thereafter  the  boys  baked 
their  own  bread  and  the  flour  lasted. 

Some  of  the  rangers  had  captured  young  bear 
cubs,  and  we  had  them  in  camp  with  us  as  pets. 
They  grew  rapidly  and  were  soon  big  fellows  and 
immensely  popular  with  the  boys.  Sometimes  a 
bear  would  break  loose  from  its  chain,  and  then 
all  of  us  would  turn  out  to  hunt  the  escaped  pet. 
Most  often  we  would  soon  find  him  seated  in  a  tree 
which  he  had  climbed  as  soon  as  he  had  broken 
his  shackles.  And  I  cannot  here  forbear  mention- 
ing the  useful  little  pack  mules  that  served  the 
rangers  so  long  and  so  well.  When  the  battalion 
was  formed  in  1874  a  number  of  little  bronco  mules 
were  secured  for  packing.  They  soon  learned  what 
was  expected  of  them  and  followed  the  rangers  like 
dogs.  Carrying  a  weight  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
to  two  hundred  pounds,  they  would  follow  a  scout 
of  rangers  on  the  dead  run  right  into  the  midst  of 
the  hottest  fight  with  Indians  or  desperadoes.  They 
seemed  to  take  as  much  interest  in  such  an  engage- 
ment as  the  rangers  themselves. 

These  little  pack  animals  had  as  much  curiosity 
as  a  child  or  a  pet  coon.  In  traveling  along  a  road 
they  sometimes  met  a  bunch  of  horses  or  several 

84 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

campers  along  the  highway.  Immediately  they 
would  run  over  for  a  brief  visit  with  the  strangers 
and  when  the  rangers  had  gone  on  a  thousand  yards 
or  more  would  scamper  up  to  us  as  fast  as  they 
could  run.  Later,  when  the  rangers  drew  in  from 
the  frontier  and  scouted  in  a  more  thickly  settled 
country  the  mules  with  their  packs  would  march 
right  up  to  strange  horses  and  frighten  them  out 
of  their  wits.  Once,  in  Austin,  one  of  our  mules 
calmly  trotted  up  to  a  mule  that  was  pulling  a  street 
car.  As  the  pack  burro  would  not  give  right  of 
way  the  street  car  mule  shied  to  one  side  and  pulled 
its  conveyance  completely  off  the  track  to  the  sur- 
prise of  its  driver.  The  tiny  animals  pulled  off 
several  stunts  like  this  and  caused  so  much  com- 
plaint that  Adjutant-General  Jones  issued  an  order 
for  aU  rangers  to  catch  and  lead  their  pack  mules 
when  passing  through  a  town. 

As  soon  as  we  were  located  in  the  new  camp,  Pri- 
vates Nevill,  Bell  and  Seiker  obtained  permission 
from  Captain  Roberts  to  visit  Austin  to  buy  a  case 
of  ten  Winchesters.  Up  to  this  time  the  company 
was  armed  with  a  .50  caliber  Sharps  carbine.  These 
guns  would  heat  easily  and  thus  were  very  inaccu- 
rate shooters.  The  state  furnished  this  weapon  to 
its  rangers  at  a  cost  of  $17.50,  and  at  that  time  fur- 
nished no  other  class  of  gun.  The  new  center  fire 

85 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

1873  model  Winchester  had  just  appeared  on  the 
market  and  sold  at  $50  for  the  rifle  and  $40  for  the 
carbine.  A  ranger  who  wanted  a  Winchester  had 
to  pay  for  it  out  of  his  own  pocket  and  supply  his 
own  ammunition  as  well,  for  the  State  of  Texas 
only  furnished  cartridges  for  the  Sharps  gun.  How- 
ever, ten  men  in  Company  "D,"  myself  included, 
were  willing  to  pay  the  price  to  have  a  superior 
arm.  I  got  carbine  number  13,401,  and  for  the 
next  six  years  of  my  ranger  career  I  never  used 
any  other  weapon.  I  have  killed  almost  every  kind 
of  game  that  is  found  in  Texas,  from  the  biggest 
old  bull  buffalo  to  a  fox  squirrel  with  this  little 
.44  Winchester.  Today  I  still  preserve  it  as  a  prized 
memento  of  the  past. 

The  boys  were  all  anxious  to  try  their  new  guns, 
and  as  Christmas  approached  we  decided  to  have  a 
real  Yule-tide  dinner.  Ed  Seiker  and  myself  visited 
a  big  turkey  roost  on  the  head  of  Elm  Creek  and 
killed  seven  big  wild  turkeys,  and  on  our  return 
Seiker  bagged  a  fine  buck  deer.  J.  W.  Bell  hunted 
on  the  San  Saba  and  brought  in  six  or  eight  wild 
geese  and  about  a  dozen  mallard  ducks.  Donley, 
the  baker,  cooked  up  the  pies,  while  Mrs.  Roberts, 
wife  of  the  captain,  furnished  the  fruit-cake.  Some 
of  the  boys  made  egg-nog,  and  altogether  we  had 
the  finest  Christmas  dinner  that  ever  graced  the 

86 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

boards  of  a  ranger  camp.  The  little  frontier  vil- 
lage of  Menardville  was  not  far  away,  and  most 
of  the  rangers  visited  it  during  Christmas  week 
for  the  dancing.  Jack  Martin  once  remarked  to 
Mrs.  Roberts  that  there  was  very  little  society  about 
a  ranger  camp.  She  told  the  joke  on  him  and  there- 
after as  long  as  he  lived  he  was  known  as  "Society 
Jack." 

During  the  winter  we  laid  out  a  race  course  and 
had  much  sport  with  our  horses.  But  there  was 
work  as  well  as  play  that  winter.  Though  Captain 
Roberts  kept  scouts  in  the  field  during  the  entire 
winter  they  never  discovered  any  Indian  trails.  The 
rangers  had  not  yet  turned  their  attention  to  out- 
laws, so  we  were  not  burdened  with  chained  pris- 
oners as  we  were  in  after  years.  This  winter  camp 
on  the  San  Saba  was  the  most  pleasant  time  in  my 
service  with  the  rangers. 

The  first  week  in  April,  1876,  we  moved  out  of 
our  winter  quarters  to  a  camp  some  six  or  seven 
miles  above  Menardville  and  located  in  a  pecan 
grove  on  the  banks  of  the  San  Saba.  We  were  all 
glad  to  get  into  our  tents  again  after  four  months 
spent  in  log  cabins.  I  remember  our  first  night  at 
the  new  camp.  The  boys  set  out  some  hooks  and 
caught  four  or  five  big  yellow  catfish  weighing 


87 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

twenty-five  or  thirty  pounds  each — enough  fish  to 
last  the  twenty  men  several  days. 

As  the  spring  opened,  Captain  Roberts  began 
sending  out  scouts  to  cut  signs  for  Indians.  I  re- 
member I  was  detailed  on  a  scout  that  was  com- 
manded by  a  non-commissioned  officer.  We  were 
ordered  to  scout  as  far  north  as  the  union  of  the 
Concho  and  Colorado  Rivers.  After  crossing  the 
Rrady  Mountains  we  struck  a  trail  of  Indians  going 
out.  The  redskins  had  probably  been  raiding  in 
San  Saba  or  McCulloch  Counties.  Their  trail  led 
west  as  straight  to  San  Angelo  as  a  bird  could  fly. 
Though  the  Indians  were  not  numerous  and  had 
only  a  few  horses,  the  trail  was  easily  followed.  As 
well  as  we  could  judge  the  redskins  had  passed  on 
a  few  days  before  we  discovered  their  sign.  We 
found  where  they  had  stolen  some  horses,  for  we 
picked  up  several  pairs  of  hobbles  that  had  been 
cut  in  two  and  left  where  they  got  the  horses.  At 
that  time  there  were  several  big  cattle  ranches  in 
the  Fort  Concho  country,  and  in  going  to  and  from 
water  the  cattle  entirely  obliterated  the  trail.  We 
worked  hard  two  days  trying  to  find  it  and  then 
gave  up  the  hunt.  We  needed  the  genius  of  Cap- 
tain Roberts  to  help  us  out  that  time. 

On  June  1,  1876,  the  company  was  increased  to 
forty  men.  Some  of  the  boys  that  had  quit  at 

88 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

Mason  the  fall  before  now  re-entered  the  service. 
Especially  do  I  remember  that  "Mage"  Reynolds 
enlisted  with  Company  "D"  once  more. 

During  the  summer  of  1876,  Major  Jones  planned 
a  big  scout  out  on  the  Pecos  to  strike  the  Lipans 
and  Kickapoos  a  blow  before  they  began  raiding 
the  white  settlements.  This  scout  started  from 
Company  "D"  in  July.  The  major  drafted  about 
twenty  men  from  my  company,  his  whole  escort 
Company  "A"  of  thirty  men  and  marched  into  Kerr 
County.  Here  he  drafted  part  of  Captain  ColdwelPs 
Company  "F,"  making  his  force  total  about  seventy 
men  with  three  wagons  and  about  twenty  pack 
mules. 

The  column  traveled  down  the  Nueces,  then  by 
Fort  Clark  up  the  Devil's  River  to  Beaver  Lake. 
Here  Captain  Ira  Long  with  twenty  men  and  the 
wagon  train  was  sent  up  the  San  Antonio  and  El 
Paso  road  to  old  Fort  Lancaster  on  the  Pecos, 
where  he  was  to  await  the  arrival  of  Major  Jones 
with  the  main  force. 

From  Beaver  Lake,  the  major  with  fifty  men  and 
the  twenty  pack  mules  turned  southwest  and  trav- 
eled down  Johnston's  Run  to  the  Shafer  Crossing 
on  the  Pecos.  From  this  crossing  we  scouted  up 
the  Pecos  to  the  mouth  of  Independence  Creek.  The 
country  through  this  section  was  very  rough  but 

89 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

very  beautiful.  We  saw  several  old  abandoned  In- 
dian camps,  especially  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek. 
Here  we  found  the  pits  and  the  scaffolds  upon  which 
the  redskins  had  dried  their  meat,  also  evidence 
that  many  deer  hide  had  been  dressed  and  made 
into  buckskin.  Bows  and  arrows  had  also  been 
manufactured  in  these  camps.  From  this  section 
the  Indians  had  been  gone  probably  a  month  or 
more. 

After  ten  days  of  scouting  we  joined  Captain  Long 
at  Fort  Lancaster  and  marched  up  Live  Oak  Greek 
to  its  head.  Here  we  prepared  to  cross  that  big 
stretch  of  table  land  between  the  Pecos  and  the 
head  waters  of  the  South  Goncho.  We  filled  what 
barrels  we  had  with  water,  topped  out  from  the 
creek — and  made  about  ten  miles  into  the  plains 
by  night  and  made  a  dry  camp.  We  got  an  early 
start  next  day  and  traveled  until  night  without  find- 
ing water.  The  stock  suffered  greatly  from  thirst 
and  the  men  had  only  a  little  water  in  their  can- 
teens. All  the  land  ponds  had  been  dry  two  weeks 
or  more,  and  I  saw  twelve  head  of  buffalo  that  had 
bogged  and  died  in  one  of  them.  Here  we  found 
an  old  abandoned  Indian  camp,  where  the  redskins 
had  dressed  many  antelope  hides.  At  one  old  bent 
mesquite  tree  the  antelope  hair  was  a  foot  deep, 
with  thirty  or  forty  skulls  scattered  about. 

90 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

By  the  second  morning  both  men  and  horses  were 
suffering  a  great  deal  from  thirst,  and  Major  Jones 
gave  orders  to  begin  march  at  4  a.  m.  We  got  away 
on  time  and  reached  water  on  the  South  Concho 
at  2  p.  m.,  the  third  day  out  from  Live  Oak  Creek. 
As  soon  as  we  got  near  the  water  we  found  a  num- 
ber of  straggling  buffalo,  and  killed  two,  thus  se- 
curing a  supply,  of  fresh  meat.  We  camped  two 
days  at  this  water  and  then  marched  back  to  Com- 
pany "D"  by  easy  stages.  Here  Major  Jones  turned 
back  up  the  line  with  his  escort  after  being  out  on 
this  scout  about  a  month. 

On  his  return  toward  the  Rio  Grande,  Major  Jones 
reached  Company  "D"  the  last  week  in  August  and 
camped  with  us  until  September  1st,  the  end  of  the 
fiscal  year  for  the  rangers.  On  this  date  many 
men  would  quit  service  to  retire  to  private  life, 
while  some  would  join  other  companies  and  new 
recruits  be  sworn  into  the  service.  This  reorgani- 
zation usually  required  two  or  three  days. 

Nearly  every  ranger  in  the  battalion  was  anxious 
to  be  at  some  time  a  member  of  Major  Jones' 
escort  company.  The  escort  company  was  not  as- 
signed a  stationary  post  nor  did  it  endeavor  to  cover 
a  given  strip  of  territory.  Its  most  important  duty 
was  to  escort  the  major  on  his  periodic  journeys  of 
inspection  to  the  other  companies  along  the  line. 

91 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

The  escort  always  wintered  in  the  south  and  made 
about  four  yearly  tours  of  the  frontier  from  com- 
pany to  company,  taking  part  in  such  scouts  as  the 
major  might  select  and  being  assigned  to  such 
extraordinary  duty  as  might  arise.  In  1874,  when 
the  Frontier  Battalion  was  first  formed,  Major  Jones 
recruited  his  escort  from  a  detail  of  five  men  from 
each  of  the  other  companies.  However,  in  practice, 
this  led  to  some  confusion  and  envy  in  the  com- 
mands, so  Major  Jones  found  it  expedient  to  have 
a  regular  escort  company,  so  he  selected  Company 
"A"  for  that  purpose.  This  remained  his  escort 
until  he  was  promoted  to  Adjutant-General. 

In  September,  1876,  there  were  several  vacancies 
in  Major  Jones'  escort,  and  several  old  Company 
"D"  boys,  among  them  "Mage"  Reynolds,  Charles 
Nevill,  Jack  Martin,  Bill  Clements,  and  Tom  Gil- 
lespie,  wished  to  enlist  in  Company  "A."  They 
wanted  me  to  go  with  them,  but  I  hesitated  to  leave 
Captain  Roberts.  My  friends  then  explained  that 
we  could  see  a  lot  more  country  on  the  escort  than 
we  could  in  a  stationary  company;  that  we  would 
probably  be  stationed  down  on  the  Rio  Grande  that 
winter,  and  going  up  the  line  in  the  spring  would 
see  thousands  of  buffalo.  This  buffalo  proposition 
caught  me,  and  I  went  with  the  boys.  After  fifteen 


92 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

months'  ranging  with  Captain  Roberts  I  now  joined 
Company  "A." 

Early  in  September  Major  Jones  marched  his 
escort  down  to  within  five  or  six  miles  of  San 
Antonio  and  camped  us  on  the  Salado  while  he 
went  in  to  Austin.  By  the  first  of  October  he  was 
back  in  camp  and  started  up  the  line  on  his  last 
visit  to  the  different  companies  before  winter  set  in. 

At  that  time  Major  John  B.  Jones  was  a  small 
man,  probably  not  more  than  five  feet  seven  inches 
tall  and  weighed  about  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  pounds.  He  had  very  dark  hair  and  eyes  and 
a  heavy  dark  moustache.  He  was  quick  in  action, 
though  small  in  stature,  and  was  an  excellent  horse- 
man, riding  very  erect  in  the  saddle. 

The  major  was  born  in  Fairfield  District,  South 
Carolina,  in  1834,  but  emigrated  to  Texas  with  his 
father  when  he  was  only  four  years  old.  He  was 
prominent  in  Texas  state  affairs  from  a  very  early 
age  and  served  gallantly  with  the  Confederate  Army 
during  the  Civil  War.  On  the  accession  of  Gov- 
ernor Coke  in  1874  he  was  appointed  to  command 
the  Frontier  Battalion  of  six  companies  of  Texas 
Rangers.  From  his  appointment  until  his  death  in 
Austin  in  1881,  Major  Jones  was  constantly  engaged 
in  repulsing  bloody  raids  of  Indians,  rounding  up 
outlaws  and  making  Texas  secure  and  safe  for  the 

93 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

industrious  and  peaceful  citizen.  In  this  work  his 
wonderful  tact,  judgment,  coolness  and  courage 
found  ample  scope. 

From  the  organization  of  the  battalion  in  1874 
until  Major  Jones  was  made  Adjutant-General,  Dr. 
Nicholson  was  always  with  him.  The  doctor  was 
a  quaint  old  bachelor  who  loved  his  toddy.  The 
boys  would  sometimes  get  him  as  full  as  a  goose, 
and  the  major  would  give  the  doctor  some  vicious 
looks  at  such  times.  Dr.  Nicholson  was  a  great 
favorite  with  all  the  men,  and  it  is  said  he  knew 
every  good  place  for  buttermilk,  butter,  milk,  and 
eggs  from  Rio  Grande  City  to  Red  River,  a  trifling 
distance  of  eight  hundred  miles.  The  doctor  always 
messed  with  Major  Jones,  and,  mounted  on  a  fine 
horse,  traveled  by  his  side.  I  don't  think  Dr.  Nich- 
olson ever  issued  a  handful  of  pills  to  the  boys  dur- 
ing the  year — he  was  just  with  us  in  case  he  was 
needed.  When  the  escort  was  disbanded  he  retired 
to  private  life  at  Del  Rio,  Texas,  and  finally  died 
there. 

This  inspection  tour  was  a  wonderful  experience 
for  me.  The  weather  was  cool  and  bracing,  and 
the  horses  had  had  a  month's  rest.  We  had  with 
us  a  quartet  of  musicians,  among  them  a  violinist, 
a  guitar  player  and  a  banjo  picker,  and  after  the 
day's  march  the  players  would  often  gather  around 

94 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

the  camp  fire  and  give  us  a  concert.  The  major 
would  frequently  walk  down  and  listen  to  the  music. 
Nor  was  music  our  only  amusement.  Major  Jones 
had  provided  his  escort  with  a  fish  seine,  and  when 
we  were  camped  on  a  big  creek  or  river  the  boys 
would  unroll  the  net,  make  a  haul  and  sometimes 
catch  enough  fish  to  supply  the  thirty  men  several 
days. 

When  recruited  to  its  full  strength  Company 
"A"  consisted  of  a  captain,  orderly  sergeant,  second 
sergeant,  first  and  second  corporals,  and  twenty-six 
privates.  Two  four-mule  wagons  hauled  the  camp 
equipage,  rations  for  the  men  and  grain  for  the 
horses.  One  light  wagon  drawn  by  two  mules  and 
driven  by  George,  the  negro  cook,  carried  the  mess 
outfit,  bedding,  tent,  etc.,  of  Major  Jones  and  Dr. 
Nicholson. 

Each  morning  at  roll  call  the  orderly  sergeant 
detailed  a  guard  of  nine  men  and  one  non-commis- 
sioned officer  to  guard  for  twenty-four  hours. 
When  ready  to  begin  our  day's  journey  the  com- 
pany was  formed  in  line  and  the  men  counted  off 
by  fours.  On  the  march  Major  Jones  and  Dr.  Nich- 
olson rode  in  front,  followed  by  the  captain  of  the 
company,  the  orderly  sergeant  and  the  men  in 
double  file.  Following  these  came  the  wagons.  An 
advance  guard  of  two  men  preceded  the  column 

95 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

about  one-half  mile.  Four  men,  known  as  flankers, 
two  on  each  side  of  the  company,  paralleled  the 
column  at  a  distance  of  one-half  to  one  mile,  de- 
pending on  the  nature  of  the  country.  In  a  rough, 
wooded  section  the  flankers  traveled  close  in,  but 
in  an  open  country  they  sometimes  spread  out  quite 
a  distance.  The  non-commissioned  officer  with  the 
remaining  guard  covered  the  rear  and  brought  up 
the  pack  mules.  Thus  protected  it  was  almost  im- 
possible for  the  command  to  be  surprised  by  In- 
dians. 

At  one  time  Major  Jones  had  with  him  two  Ton- 
kawa  Indians  as  guides.  For  protection  this  tribe 
lived  near  Fort  Griffin,  a  large  military  post.  One 
of  these  old  braves  known  as  Jim  had  been  given 
an  old  worn  out  army  coat  with  the  shoulder  straps 
of  a  general  upon  it.  Jim  wore  this  coat  tightly 
buttoned  up  and  marched  at  the  head  of  the  column 
with  as  much  dignity  and  importance  as  a  general- 
in-chief.  His  companion  wore  a  high  crowned 
beaver  stove-pipe  hat  with  the  top  gone,  and  car- 
ried an  old  umbrella  that  someone  had  given  him. 
Fitted  out  in  this  ridiculous  and  unique  manner  he 
marched  for  days  with  the  umbrella  over  him. 
Think  of  an  Indian  shading  himself  from  the  sun! 

Major  Jones  never  paid  much  attention  to  these 
Indians  unless  he  wished  to  inquire  the  lay  of  the 

96 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

country  or  the  distance  to  some  water  hole.  They 
did  pretty  much  as  they  pleased,  sometimes  riding 
in  front  with  the  major,  sometimes  with  the  guard 
and  at  others  with  the  men.  These  old  redskins 
were  a  constant  source  of  amusement  to  the  boys. 
Jim  and  his  pal  were  good  hunters  but  as  lazy  as 
could  be.  They  got  into  the  habit  of  killing  a  buf- 
falo late  in  the  evening  when  they  knew  it  was 
almost  time  to  pitch  camp,  cutting  out  just  enough 
meat  for  themselves  and  letting  the  remainder 
go  to  waste.  The  major  told  these  lazy-bones  when 
they  killed  a  buffalo  he  wanted  to  know  of  it  so 
he  could  secure  the  meat  for  the  company.  The 
Tonks  paid  no  attention  to  this  request  and  late 
one  evening  came  into  camp  with  five  or  six  pounds 
of  buffalo  meat. 

The  orderly  sergeant  spied  them,  so  he  walked 
over  to  Major  Jones  and  said,  "Major,  those  two 
old  Tonkawas  are  back  in  camp  with  just  enough 
meat  for  themselves." 

"Sergeant,  you  get  a  pack  mule,  take  a  file  of 
men  with  you  and  make  those  Indians  saddle  their 
horses  and  go  with  you  to  get  that  buffalo,"  the 
major  commanded,  determined  that  his  order 
should  be  obeyed  by  the  Indians. 

The  sergeant  went  to  the  Indians,  who  were  busy 
about  the  fire  roasting  their  meat,  and  told  them 

97 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

what  the  major  had  said.  Jim  declared  that  he 
was  tired  and  did  not  wish  to  go.  The  non-com- 
missioned officer  replied  that  that  made  no  differ- 
ence and  commanded  him  and  his  pal  to  get  their 
ponies  and  lead  the  way  to  the  dead  buffalo. 

"Maybe  so  ten  miles  to  buffalo,"  protested  Jim, 
trying  to  avoid  going. 

The  sergeant  knew  they  were  lying,  for  of  all  the 
Indians  that  ever  inhabited  Texas  the  Tonkawas 
were  the  biggest  cowards.  Just  mention  the  Co- 
manches  or  Kiowas  to  them  and  they  would  have 
a  chill.  It  was  well  known  that  the  Tonks  would 
not  venture  very  far  away  from  the  protection  of 
the  rangers  for  fear  of  being  killed  by  their  enemies. 
As  soon  as  they  knew  they  had  to  do  as  ordered, 
they  mounted  their  ponies  and  led  the  sergeant 
over  a  little  hill,  and  in  a  valley  not  more  than  half 
a  mile  from  camp,  was  the  fine,  fat  buffalo  the 
Indians  had  killed.  The  animal  was  soon  skinned 
and  brought  into  camp,  where  all  had  plenty  of 
fresh  meat. 

These  Tonks  were  as  simple  as  children  and  as 
suspicious  as  negroes.  The  weather  had  been  hot 
and  dry  for  several  days.  Old  Jim  thereupon  killed 
some  hawks  with  his  bow  and  arrows,  plaited  the 
long  tail  and  wing  feathers  into  his  pony's  mane 
and  tail,  and  said  it  would  make  "heap  rain."  Sure 

98 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

enough,  in  three  or  four  days  a  hard  thunder  shower 
came  up  and  thoroughly  wet  everybody  on  the 
march.  Jim,  with  only  his  old  officer's  coat  for 
protection,  was  drenched  to  the  skin,  and  his  pony 
looked  like  a  drowned  rat.  The  wood,  grass,  every- 
thing was  wet.  Jim  stood  by,  shivering  with 
the  cold  and  watched  the  boys  use  up  almost  their 
last  match  trying  to  make  a  fire.  Suddenly,  with 
a  look  of  disgust,  he  ran  up  to  his  horse,  which  was 
standing  near,  and  plucked  every  hawk  feather  out 
of  the  animal's  tail  and  mane  and,  throwing  them 
on  the  ground,  stamped  upon  them  violently  as  if 
that  would  stop  the  rain. 

After  the  escort  had  crossed  the  Colorado  River 
on  its  way  northward  we  found  an  advance  guard 
of  buffalo  on  its  way  south,  and  it  was  an  easy 
matter  to  keep  the  company  in  fresh  meat.  We 
spent  about  one  week  with  Company  "B"  on  the 
upper  Brazos,  then  turned  south  again  to  make  our 
winter  camp  near  Old  Frio  Town  in  Frio  County. 
It  was  November  now  and  freezing  hard  every 
night. 

The  last  guard  would  call  the  camp  early,  so  we 
generally  had  breakfast  and  were  ready  to  move 
southward  by  daylight.  We  did  not  stop  a  single 
time  for  dinner  on  this  return  trip,  just  traveled  at 
a  steady  gait  all  day  long  without  dinner  until 

99 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

nearly  night.  We  all  wondered  why  we  marched 
the  live-long  day  without  dinner,  but  it  was  not 
until  many  years  afterward  when  I  became  a  Mason 
that  I  learned  the  reason  for  our  forced  marches. 
Major  Jones  was  in  line  to  be  made  Most  Worship- 
ful Grand  Master  of  Masons  in  Texas  and  he  had  to 
be  in  Houston  on  the  first  Tuesday  in  December  for 
the  annual  meeting  of  the  Most  Worshipful  Grand 
Lodge  of  Texas.  If  there  were  other  Masons  in 
the  company  besides  Major  Jones  I  never  knew  it. 

At  this  time  we  had  for  commander  of  the  escort, 
Lieutenant  Benton.  He  was  in  bad  health  and  rode 
most  of  the  way  back  in  one  of  the  wagons.  On 
arriving  at  the  end  of  the  line  he  tendered  his  resig- 
nation and  was  succeeded  by  Captain  Neal  Cold- 
well.  The  company  camped  for  the  winter  on  Elm 
Creek,  three  miles  southwest  of  Old  Frio  Town. 

Captain  Neal  Coldwell  was  born  in  Dade  County, 
Missouri,  in  May,  1844,  and  served  gallantly 
throughout  the  Civil  War  in  the  Thirty-second  Reg- 
iment, Texas  Cavalry,  commanded  by  Col.  W.  P. 
Woods.  At  the  organization  of  the  Frontier  Bat- 
talion in  1874,  Neal  Coldwell  was  commissioned 
captain  of  Company  "F." 

It  is  difficult,  in  a  single  sketch,  to  do  Captain 
Coldwell  justice  or  convey  any  correct  idea  of  what 
he  accomplished  as  a  Texas  Ranger.  The  station 

100 


MAJOR  JONES  AND  HIS  ESCORT 

of  Company  "F,"  the  southernmost  company  of  the 
line,  was  the  most  unfavorable  that  could  well  be 
given  him.  His  scouting  grounds  were  the  head 
of  the  Guadalupe,  Nueces,  Llanos,  and  Devil's 
Rivers — the  roughest  and  most  difficult  part  of 
South  Texas  in  which  to  pursue  Indians,  yet  he  held 
them  in  check  and  finally  drove  them  out  of  that 
part  of  the  state. 


101 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

By  the  end  of  the  year  1876  the  Indians  had  been 
pretty  well  pushed  back  off  the  frontier,  so  that 
there  were  very  few  fights  with  the  redskins  after 
1877.  From  the  spring  of  1877  onward  the  rangers 
were  transformed  into  what  might  properly  be 
called  mounted  state  police,  and  accordingly  turned 
their  attention  to  ridding  the  frontier  of  the  outlaws 
that  infested  nearly  every  part  of  Texas.  During 
the  winter  of  1876-77  Captain  Neal  Coldwell  broke 
up  a  band  of  thieves  that  was  operating  in  the  north- 
western part  of  Atascosa  County.  I  remember 
helping  him  capture  a  man  named  Wolf.  He  was 
wanted  for  murder,  and  we  made  several  scouts 
after  him  before  we  succeeded  in  landing  him  safely 
in  irons. 

In  April,  1877,  Major  Jones  reached  ColdwelTs 
company  and  at  once  made  arrangements  to  march 
up  the  line  on  a  visit  of  inspection.  When  the 
major  reached  the  headwaters  of  the  South  Llano 
River  he  halted  his  escort  and  detailed  several  small 
scouting  parties  of  five  or  six  men,  each  with  or- 
ders to  arrest  every  man  that  could  not  give  a  good 
account  of  himself.  One  scout  was  sent  down  the 

102 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

South  Llano,  a  second  down  Johnson's  Fork,  while 
a  third  was  ordered  over  the  divide  with  instruc- 
tions to  hit  the  head  of  the  North  Llano  and  sweep 
down  that  river, — all  three  parties  to  rejoin  Major 
Jones  and  the  main  escort  near  where  Junction 
City  now  stands.  In  these  outlaw  raids  some  fifty 
or  sixty  men  were  arrested  and  brought  in.  Many 
of  the  suspects'  were  released  upon  examination, 
but  I  remember  one  scout  brought  in  two  escaped 
convicts  who  had  been  captured  up  on  Copperas 
Creek.  We  bagged  several  men  wanted  for  mur- 
der and  some  horse  and  cattle  thieves.  Old  Kimble 
County  never  had  such  a  clean-up  of  bandits  in  her 
history. 

While  these  prisoners  were  being  held  in  camp 
other  scouts  were  sent  out  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  county  with  orders  to  sweep  Bear  Creek,  Gen- 
try, Red  Creek,  Big  and  Little  Saline,  to  cross  the 
San  Saba  River  in  Menard  County  and  sweep  up 
that  stream  from  old  Peg  Leg  Station  to  Menard. 
Many  more  suspects  were  caught  in  this  haul. 

With  a  party  of  scouts  I  was  detailed  on  a  mis- 
sion to  Fort  McKavett,  at  that  time  one  of  the  big 
military  posts  on  the  frontier.  Many  hard  char- 
acters and  gamblers  gathered  about  these  posts  to 
fleece  the  soldiers  out  of  their  easy-made  money. 
We  made  several  arrests  here,  and  camped  for  noon 

103 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

one  mile  below  the  government  post  on  the  San 
Saba  River.  During  the  dinner  hour  my  horse,  a 
gray,  in  lying  down  to  wallow,  rolled  on  some 
broken  beer  bottles  and  cut  his  back  so  badly  that 
he  was  unfit  for  use  for  some  time.  When  the 
escort  moved  north  I  was  left  with  old  Company 
"D"  until  the  return  of  Company  "A"  on  its  return 
march  some  six  weeks  later.  I  thereby  missed 
some  of  the  exciting  scouts  that  took  place  on  the 
march  north. 

When  Major  Jones  reached  Coleman  City  he 
found  orders  from  Governor  Coke  to  send  a  scout 
of  rangers  to  Lampasas  County  to  help  the  civil 
authorities  suppress  a  war  known  as  the  Horrell- 
Higgins  feud.  Second  Sergeant  N.  O.  Reynolds  was 
detached  from  Company  "A"  and  with  ten  men 
ordered  to  proceed  to  Lampasas  and  report  to  the 
sheriff  of  that  county. 

After  leaving  Coleman,  Major  Jones  visited  the 
northernmost  ranger  company  and  began  his  re- 
turn march.  This  was  to  be  his  last  trip  with  his 
escort,  for  immediately  upon  his  return  to  Austin 
he  was  commissioned  Adjutant-General  of  Texas. 
As  there  was  no  longer  a  major  of  the  battalion, 
there  was  no  need  of  an  escort,  so  old  Company 
"A"  took  its  place  on  the  line  as  a  stationary  com- 
pany. Captain  Neal  Coldwell  was  ultimately  made 

104 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

quartermaster  of  the  battalion,  and  I  believe  ranked 
as  major. 

I  was  picked  up  at  Company  "D"  by  the  escort 
on  their  return  march  and  was  with  Company  "A" 
when  it  was  made  a  stationary  command  and 
located  in  Frio  County. 

In  the  latter  part  of  1877 — during  the  late  sum- 
mer— a  party  .of  filibusters  under  command  of  a 
Mexican  general  named  Winkler  assembled  in  Mav- 
erick County,  near  Eagle  Pass,  and  prepared  to  in- 
vade Mexico.  Captain  Coldwell,  then  commanding 
Company  "A,"  was  ordered  to  the  Rio  Grande  to 
break  up  the  expedition.  This  he  did  by  arresting 
more  than  fifty  participants.  I  was  with  him  on 
this  expedition  and  saw  much  border  service  dur- 
ing this  summer. 

I  remember  a  scout  I  was  called  upon  to  make 
with  Captain  Coldwell  over  in  Bandera  County. 
The  captain  took  with  him  John  Parker,  Hawk 
Roberts,  and  myself.  In  one  week's  time  we  caught 
some  ten  or  twelve  fugitives  from  justice  and  lit- 
erally filled  the  little  old  jail  at  Bandera.  Captain 
Coldwell  detailed  Hawk  Roberts  and  myself  to  cap- 
ture an  especially  bad  man  wanted  in  Burnet 
County  for  murder.  The  captain  warned  us  to  take 
no  chances  with  this  man — that  meant  to  kill  him 
if  he  hesitated  about  surrendering.  I  can't  remem- 

105 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

her  this  murderer's  name  at  this  late  date,  but  I 
recall  perfectly  the  details  of  his  capture.  Sheriff 
Jack  Hamilton  of  Bandera  County  sent  a  guide  to 
show  us  where  this  fugitive  lived.  The  guide  led 
us  some  fifteen  miles  northwest  of  Bandera  and 
finally  pointed  out  the  house  in  which  the  murderer 
was  supposed  to  be.  He  then  refused  to  go  any 
farther,  saying  he  did  not  want  any  of  this  man's 
game,  for  the  feUow  had  just  stood  off  a  deputy 
sheriff  and  made  him  hike  it  back  to  Bandera. 

It  was  almost  night  when  we  reached  the  house, 
so  Roberts  and  I  decided  to  wait  until  morning  be- 
fore attempting  the  arrest.  We  staked  our  horses, 
lay  down  on  our  saddle  blankets  without  supper, 
and  slept  soundly  till  dawn.  As  soon  as  it  was  day- 
light we  rode  over  near  the  house,  dismounted, 
slipped  up,  and,  unannounced,  stepped  right  inside 
the  room.  The  man  we  wanted  was  sleeping  on  a 
pallet  with  a  big  white-handled  .45  near  his  head. 
Hawk  Roberts  kicked  the  pistol  out  of  the  man's 
reach.  The  noise  awakened  the  sleeper  and  he 
opened  his  eyes  to  find  himself  looking  into  the 
business  ends  of  two  Winchesters  held  within  a  foot 
of  his  head.  Of  course  he  surrendered  without 
fight.  His  wife,  who  was  sleeping  in  a  bed  in  the 
same  room,  jumped  out  of  it  and  heaped  all  kinds 
of  abuse  on  us  for  entering  her  home  without  cere- 

106 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

mony.  She  was  especially  bitter  against  Sheriff 
Hamilton,  who,  she  said,  had  promised  to  notify 
her  husband  when  he  was  wanted  so  he  could  come 
in  and  give  himself  up.  She  indignantly  advised 
her  husband  to  give  old  Sheriff  Hamilton  a  d — d 
good  whipping  the  first  chance  he  had. 

While  Company  "A"  was  rounding  up  outlaws 
along  the  border,  Sergeant  Reynolds  was  covering 
himself  with  glory  in  the  north.  Upon  reaching 
Lampasas  and  reporting  to  the  sheriff  as  ordered 
by  Major  Jones,  the  sergeant  was  told  that  the 
Horrell  boys  were  living  on  the  Sulphur  Fork  of 
the  Lampasas  River  and  were  defying  the  authori- 
ties to  arrest  them. 

The  Horrells  were  native  Texans  and  had  been 
raised  on  the  frontier.  These  brothers,  of  which 
five  were  involved  in  the  feud  (the  sixth,  John 
Horrell,  had  been  killed  at  Las  Cruces,  New  Mexico, 
previously)  were  expert  riders,  and,  having  grown 
up  with  firearms  in  their  hands,  were  as  quick  as 
chained  lightning  with  either  Winchester  or  pistol. 
Sam  Horrell,  the  eldest,  was  married  and  had  a 
large  family  of  children.  He  was  a  farmer  and 
lived  a  quiet  life  over  on  the  Lampasas  River.  The 
other  four  boys,  Mart,  Tom,  Merritt,  and  Ben,  were 
all  cattlemen.  They  stood  well  in  the  community, 
but  were  considered  dangerous  when  aroused. 

107 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

At  this  time  Lampasas  was  a  frontier  town  and 
wide  open  as  far  as  saloons  and  gambling  were  con- 
cerned. The  Horrells,  like  most  cattlemen  of  the 
period,  loved  to  congregate  in  town,  go  to  the  sa- 
loons and  have  a  good  time,  perhaps  drink  too 
much  and  sometimes  at  night  shoot  up  the  town 
for  fun,  as  they  termed  it.  Some  of  the  more  pious 
and  more  settled  citizens  of  the  town  did  not  ap- 
prove of  these  night  brawls,  and  called  upon  Gov- 
ernor Edmund  J.  Davis,  Provisional  Governor  in 
1873,  to  give  them  protection.  Governor  Davis  had 
formed  in  Texas  a  State  Police.  Naturally  they 
were  rank  Republicans,  and  many  of  them  were 
termed  carpetbaggers.  This  body  was  never  pop- 
ular in  Texas,  especially  as  many  of  the  force  were 
negroes. 

In  answer  to  the  call  of  the  citizens,  Governor 
Davis  dispatched  Captain  Williams  with  three  white 
men  and  one  negro  to  Lampasas.  On  the  way  up 
Captain  Williams  met  several  freighters  going  to 
Austin  and  stopped  one  of  them,  Tedford  Bean,  to 
ask  the  distance  to  Lampasas.  The  captain  had 
been  drinking,  and  he  told  Mr.  Bean  he  was  going 
to  town  to  clean  up  those  damn  Horrell  boys. 

The  little  squad  of  police  reached  Lampasas  about 
3  p.  m.,  hitched  its  horses  to  some  live  oak  trees 
on  the  public  plaza,  left  the  negro  to  guard  theni, 

108 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

and  then  made  a  bee  line  to  Jerry  Scott's  saloon 
on  the  west  side  of  the  square.  Mart,  Tom,  and 
Merritt  Horrell,  with  some  ten  or  fifteen  cow  men, 
were  in  the  saloon  drinking,  playing  billiards  and 
having  a  good  time  generally.  One  man  was  pick- 
ing a  banjo  and  another  playing  a  fiddle.  Captain 
Williams,  an  exceedingly  brave  but  unwise  man, 
took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance  as  he  walked  up 
to  the  bar  and  called  for  drinks. 

He  turned  to  Bill  Bowen,  a  brother-in-law  to 
Merritt  Horrell,  and  said,  "I  believe  you  have  a  six- 
shooter.  I  arrest  you.5' 

"Bill,  you  have  done  nothing  and  need  not  be 
arrested  if  you  don't  want  to,"  interrupted  Mart 
Horrell. 

Like  a  flash  of  lightning  Captain  Williams  pulled 
his  pistol  and  fired  on  Mart  Horrell,  wounding  him 
badly.  The  Horrell  boys  drew  their  guns  and  be- 
gan to  fight.  Captain  Williams  and  one  of  his  men, 
Dr.  Daniels,  were  shot  down  in  the  saloon.  William 
Cherry  was  killed  just  outside  the  door,  and  Andrew 
Melville  was  fatally  wounded  as  he  was  trying  to 
escape.  He  reached  the  old  Huling  Hotel,  where 
he  died  later.  At  the  first  crack  of  a  pistol  the 
negro  police  mounted  his  horse  and  made  a  John 
Gilpin  ride  for  Austin.  Thus,  within  the  twinkling 


109 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

of  an  eye,  four  state  police  were  killed  and  only 
one  of  the  Horrells  wounded. 

Tom  and  Merritt  Horrell  carried  the  wounded 
Mart  to  their  mother's  home,  some  two  hundred 
yards  from  Scott's  saloon,  then  mounted  their 
horses  and  rode  away.  Great  excitement  prevailed 
in  the  town.  The  state  militia  was  called  out,  and 
Governor  Davis  hurried  other  state  police  to  Lam- 
pasas.  They  scoured  the  country  for  the  Horrell 
boys,  but  to  no  avail. 

Mart  Horrell  and  Jerry  Scott  were  arrested  and 
carried  to  Georgetown,  Williamson  County,  and 
placed  in  jail.  Mart  Horrell's  wife  went  to  the  jail 
to  nurse  her  husband  and,  of  course,  kept  her 
brothers-in-law  informed  as  to  Mart's  condition. 
As  soon  as  he  was  well  the  Horrell  boys  made  up 
a  party  and  rode  to  Williamson  County  and  as- 
saulted the  jail  at  night.  The  citizens  and  officers 
of  Georgetown,  taken  unawares,  put  up  a  stiff  fight, 
but  the  Horrells  had  ten  or  fifteen  well  organized 
and  armed  men  with  them.  They  took  stations  at 
all  approaches  to  the  jail  and  kept  up  a  steady  fire 
with  their  Winchesters  at  anyone  who  showed  up 
to  oppose  them.  Mr.  A.  S.  Fisher,  a  prominent 
lawyer  of  the  town,  took  an  active  hand  in  the  fight 
and  was  badly  wounded.  Bill  Bowen  was  slighfly 
hurt  while  battering  in  the  jail  door  with  a  sledge 

110 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

hammer.  Mart  Horrell  and  Jerry  Scott  were  lib- 
erated and  rode  off  with  their  rescuers. 

By  the  next  evening  the  Horrells  were  back  on 
Lucies  Creek.  They  at  once  made  arrangements  to 
leave  the  country  and  go  to  New  Mexico.  They 
had  gathered  about  them  Bill  and  Tom  Bowen, 
John  Dixon,  Ben  Turner,  and  six  or  eight  other 
men  as  desperate  and  dangerous  as  themselves. 
They  were  so  formidable  that  they  no  longer  at- 
tempted to  hide  but  openly  and  without  hindrance 
gathered  their  cattle,  sold  the  remnant  to  Gooksey 
and  Clayton  to  be  delivered  to  them  in  Coleman 
County.  They  even  notified  the  sheriff  of  Lam- 
pasas  County  just  what  day  they  would  pass  with 
their  herd  through  Russell  Gap,  but  they  were  not 
molested. 

As  a  cowboy  I  had  worked  for  Cooksey  and  Clay- 
ton, and  was  with  them  when  they  delivered  cattle 
to  the  Horrell  boys  on  Home  Creek,  Coleman 
County.  I  had  dinner  in  camp  with  the  outlaws 
and  they  made  no  effort  to  hide  from  the  authori- 
ties. I  remember  they  sat  about  their  camps  with 
Winchesters  across  their  laps. 

When  all  was  ready  the  Horrells  moved  slowly 
out  of  the  country  with  their  families  and  cattle 
and  finally  reached  New  Mexico,  settling  on  the 
head  of  the  Hondo  River  in  Lincoln  County.  They 

111 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

had  not  been  at  their  new  home  many  months  be- 
fore Ben  Horrell  was  shot  and  killed  at  a  fandango 
near  old  Fort  Stanton.  Ben's  brothers  at  once  re- 
paired to  the  dance  hall  and  killed  eight  Mexicans 
and  one  woman. 

This  brought  on  a  war  between  the  Horrell  boys 
and  the  Mexican  population  along  the  Hondo  River, 
and  it  is  said  that  in  the  fights  that  followed  thirty 
or  forty  Mexicans  were  killed  between  Fort  Stanton 
and  Roswell.  In  one  of  those  pitched  battles  Ben 
Turner  was  killed.  Turner  was  prominent  in  all 
of  the  fights  staged  by  the  Horrells,  was  with  them 
when  Captain  Williams  was  killed  and  was  one  of 
the  assaulting  party  on  the  Georgetown  jail.  His 
death  was  keenly  felt  by  his  companions. 

Having  now  outlawed  themselves  in  New  Mexico, 
the  Horrells  could  no  longer  stay  in  that  country. 
They  turned  back  to  Texas,  and  next  year  showed 
up  at  their  old  haunts  in  Lampasas  County.  The 
shock  of  the  Civil  War  was  beginning  to  subside 
and  the  State  of  Texas  was  then  under  civil  govern- 
ment with  a  Democratic  governor  in  office.  The 
friends  of  the  Horrells  advised  them  to  surrender 
to  the  authorities  and  be  tried  for  the  killing  of 
Captain  Williams  and  his  men.  They  were  assured 
a  fair  trial  by  the  best  citizens  of  Lampasas  County. 


112 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

Accordingly,  the  Horrells  gave  up,  and  upon  trial 
were  acquitted  of  the  charges  against  them. 

The  Horrells  had  not  long  been  at  ease  before 
Merritt,  the  youngest  of  the  brothers,  was  accused 
by  Pink  Higgins  of  unlawfully  handling  his  cattle. 
Shortly  afterward,  while  Merritt  was  seated  un- 
armed in  a  chair  in  the  old  Jerry  Scott  saloon,  Pink 
Higgins  stepped  to  the  back  door  of  the  place  and 
shot  him  to  death.  Thus  Merritt  met  his  death  in 
the  same  saloon  where  four  years  before  he  had 
been  a  party  to  the  killing  of  Captain  Williams.  At 
this  time  Mart  and  Tom  Horrell  were  living  down 
on  Sulphur  Fork  of  Lampasas  River.  The  news 
of  their  brother's  death  was  quickly  carried  to  them. 
They  armed  themselves  and  started  in  a  run  for 
Lampasas. 

This  move  had  been  anticipated  by  the  Pink  Hig- 
gins party.  They  waylaid  the  Horrell  boys  outside 
the  town  and  at  their  first  fire  killed  Tom  Horrell's 
horse  and  badly  wounded  Mart.  Tom  advanced 
single  handed  on  the  attackers  and  put  them  to 
flight.  He  then  partly  supported  and  partly  car- 
ried his  brother  to  the  home  of  Mr.  Tinnins,  a 
neighbor,  where  a  doctor  was  hurried  to  the 
wounded  man. 

Thus  old  Lampasas  County  was  again  the  scene 
of  war  with  Mart,  Tom  and  Sam  Horrell,  Bill  and 

113 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Tom  Bowen,  John  Dixon  and  Bill  Crabtree  on  one 
side  and  Pink  Higgins,  Bob  Mitchell  and  their 
friends  on  the  other.  These  two  factions  met  in 
the  town  of  Lampasas  and  a  furious  battle  fol- 
lowed. A  man  was  killed  on  each  side  and  the 
population  greatly  endangered.  Hence  the  gov- 
ernor's order  to  Major  Jones  to  send  rangers  to 
the  aid  of  the  officers  at  Lampasas. 

When  Sergeant  N.  O.  Reynolds  reported  to  the 
sheriff  of  Lampasas  he  was  informed  that  the  Hor- 
rell  boys  were  living  ten  miles  east  of  Lampasas 
and  had  ten  or  twelve  desperate  men  with  them, 
so  that  it  meant  certain  death  to  anyone  making 
an  attempt  to  capture  them. 

"But,  Mr.  Sheriff,  I  am  sent  here  to  effect  the 
capture  of  all  offenders  against  the  law,  and  it  is 
my  duty  to  at  least  make  the  attempt,"  replied  the 
brave  Reynolds. 

"These  men  have  never  been  arrested,"  declared 
Sheriff  Sweet,  "and  it  is  my  honest  opinion  they 
cannot  be." 

Reynolds  then  asked  if  the  sheriff  would  send  a 
guide  to  show  him  where  the  Horrells  lived.  The 
rangers  under  the  intrepid  Reynolds  left  Lampasas 
late  in  the  night  and  finally  the  guide  pointed  at  a 
flickering  light  about  a  mile  off. 


114 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

"There  is  where  the  Horrell  boys  live.  I  am 
going  back  to  town,"  he  said. 

When  asked  if  he  would  not  accompany  the 
rangers  to  the  house,  the  guide  replied,  "No,  not 
for  a  million  dollars!" 

With  that  he  turned  his  horse  and  rode  away. 

Reynolds  thought  it  would  be  best  to  wait  until 
daylight  before  attempting  the  arrest.  He  planned 
to  surprise  the  outlaws,  if  such  a  thing  were  pos- 
sible, but  if  the  rangers  were  discovered  and  an 
engagement  came  on  they  were  to  fight  to  the  last 
man.  As  soon  as  dawn  broke  the  rangers  wended 
their  way  on  foot  to  the  Horrell  brothers'  ranch. 
It  was  a  moment  of  great  anxiety  as  they  ap- 
proached the  house,  but  not  a  sound  was  heard, 
not  a  dog  barked. 

Sergeant  Reynolds  and  his  men  tiptoed  right  into 
the  room  in  which  the  Horrells  were  sleeping. 
Some  of  the  men  were  on  pallets  on  the  floor,  while 
others  slept  in  beds  in  the  one  big  room.  Each 
ranger  pointed  a  cocked  Winchester  at  the  head 
of  a  sleeper.  Reynolds  then  spoke  to  Mart  Horrell. 
At  the  sound  of  his  voice  every  man  sat  up  in  bed 
and  found  himself  looking  into  the  muzzle  of  a 
gun.  The  sergeant  quickly  explained  that  he  was 
a  ranger  and  had  come  to  arrest  them.  Mart  re- 
plied they  could  not  surrender,  and  Tom  Horrell 

115 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

said  it  would  be  better  to  die  fighting  than  to  be 
mobbed. 

This  gave  Reynolds  his  cue.  He  warned  the  out- 
laws that  if  anything  was  started  there  would  be 
a  dozen  dead  men  in  that  house  in  one  minute  and 
advised  them  to  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say.  He 
then  guaranteed  the  Horrells  upon  his  honor  that 
he  would  not  turn  them  over  to  the  sheriff  to  be 
put  in  jail  and  mobbed,  but  promised  he  would 
guard  them  in  his  camp  until  they  could  secure  a 
preliminary  examination  and  give  bond. 

"Boys,  this  seems  reasonable,"  said  Mart  Horrell, 
rising  to  his  feet.  "I  believe  these  rangers  can  be 
relied  upon  to  protect  us.  Besides  this  fight  has 
been  thrust  upon  us.  If  we  can  get  a  hearing  we 
can  give  bond." 

They  all  agreed  finally  to  this  proposition,  of  Ser- 
geant Reynolds  and  laid  down  their  arms,  mounted 
their  horses  and  under  guard  of  the  rangers  were 
marched  into  the  town  of  Lampasas. 

The  news  of  the  capture  of  the  Horrells  spread 
like  wildfire  through  the  town  and  county.  Hun- 
dreds of  people  flocked  to  Lampasas  to  see  Ser- 
geant Reynolds,  the  man  that  had  accomplished  the 
impossible  in  rounding  up  the  most  desperate  band 
of  men  that  ever  lived.  The  news  was  rushed  to 
Austin,  and  General  Jones  himself  hurried  to  the 

116 


THE  HORRELL-HIGGINS  FEUD 

scene.  This  act  of  Sergeant  Reynolds  covered  him 
with  glory  and  brought  to  his  name  imperishable 
renown.  He  was  at  once  commissioned  First  Lieu- 
tenant, commanding  Company  "E." 

The  Horrell  boys  were  admitted  to  bond  after  a 
preliminary  hearing.  After  their  release  Mart  Hor- 
rell came  to  Lieutenant  Reynolds  and  feelingly 
thanked  him  for  carrying  out  his  promise.  With 
tears  streaming  down  his  face  he  grasped  the  lieu- 
tenant's hand  and  said,  "You  are  undoubtedly  the 
bravest  man  in  the  world  today."  These  unfortu- 
nate men  were  later  shot  to  death  in  the  Meridian 
jail.  The  Higgins  and  Mitchell  parties  surrendered 
to  the  authorities.  Pink  Higgins  was  tried  and  ac- 
quitted of  the  murder  of  Merritt  Horrell.  This 
ended  the  feud,  but  it  started  Lieutenant  Reynolds 
on  a  new  and  important  phase  of  his  career  as  a 
ranger. 


117 


CHAPTER  VIII 
SERVICE    WITH   REYNOLDS,    THE   INTREPID 

As  soon  as  Sergeant  Reynolds  was  commissioned 
first  lieutenant  he  was  placed  in  command  of  Com- 
pany "E,"  then  stationed  in  Coleman  County,  but 
immediately  ordered  to  Lampasas.  At  this  time 
Captain  Sparks  resigned  the  command  of  Company 
"C,"  and  this  company  was  also  ordered  to  report 
to  Lieutenant  Reynolds  at  the  same  town.  Late  in 
August  the  two  commands  went  into  camp  at  Han- 
cock Springs.  Major  Jones  then  authorized  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds  to  pick  such  men  as  he  desired 
from  these  two  companies  for  his  own  company 
and  either  discharge  or  transfer  the  remainder  to 
other  commands.  No  other  officer  in  the  battalion, 
I  believe,  was  ever  accorded  this  privilege. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  had  a  week  or  ten  days  in 
which  to  make  his  selection,  so  he  studied  the  mus- 
ter rolls  of  the  companies  carefully.  He  had  ranged 
under  such  great  captains  as  Perry,  D.  W.  Roberts, 
Neal  Coldwell,  and  with  Major  Jones  himself.  He 
knew  what  qualities  were  needed  in  a  good  ranger 
and  made  his  selections  accordingly.  From  old 
Company  "A"  Reynolds  selected  C.  L.  Nevill,  Tom 
Gillespie,  Shape  Rodgers,  Jack  Martin,  John  Gibbs, 

118 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

W.  T.  Clements,  and  four  others  whose  names  I  do 
not  now  remember.  These  were  the  scouts  that 
had  helped  him  capture  the  Horrells  and  naturally 
were  his  first  choice.  From  Company  "E"  came 
Dick  Ware,  who  one  year  later  killed  the  noted  train 
robBer,  Sam  Bass,  then  served  Mitchell  County  as 
its  first  sheriff  for  many  years,  and  finally  became 
United  States  marshal  for  the  Western  District  of 
Texas  under  President  Cleveland's  administration. 
Henry  Thomas,  Miller  Mourland,  George  Arnett, 
and  other  Company  "E"  boys  were  selected.  Henry 
Maltimore,  Ben  and  Dock  Carter,  Bill  Derrick,  Chris 
Connor,  Henry  McGee,  Abe  Anglin,  J.  W.  Warren, 
Dave  Ligon,  Lowe  Hughes,  George  (Hog)  Hughes, 
and  others  were  picked  from  Company  "C." 

When  he  had  exhausted  the  two  companies 
Reynolds  turned  to  General  Jones  and  said,  "There 
is  a  ranger  down  on  the  Rio  Grande  in  Neal  Cold- 
well's  company  that  I  want." 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  the  general. 

"Private  Jim  Gillett." 

"You  shall  have  him,"  promised  General  Jones. 
"I  will  send  an  order  to  Captain  Coldwell  tonight 
to  have  Gillett  report  to  you  here." 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  Company  "A's" 
mail  came  in  from  Frio  Town,  but  Captain  Cold- 
well  sent  for  me  as  soon  as  General  Jones'  order 

119 


I 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

arrived,  and  told  me  that  I  must  leave  the  company 
next  morning  and  report  to  the  Adjutant-General 
at  Austin.  I  was  nonplussed,  for  I  did  not  know 
what  the  order  meant.  Out  on  the  frontier  where 
we  then  were  operating  we  seldom  read  newspapers 
or  heard  what  the  other  companies  were  doing,  so 
I  did  not  even  know  that  Reynolds  had  captured  the 
Horrell  boys  and  had  been  commissioned  to  com- 
mand Company  "E."  The  following  morning  I 
bade  Captain  Coldwell  and  the  Company  "A"  boys 
goodbye  and  started  on  my  long  ride  to  Austin. 

As  I  jogged  along  I  asked  myself  many  hundred 
times  why  I  was  ordered  to  report  at  Austin,  and, 
boy-like,  it  made  me  nervous  and  uneasy.  It  took 
me  two  days  to  reach  San  Antonio  and  three  more 
to  get  to  Austin.  I  arrived  in  the  latter  town  just 
at  nightfall,  but  I  was  at  the  Adjutant-General's 
office  as  soon  as  it  was  opened  next  morning. 

Presently  General  Jones  entered  with  some  of- 
ficers of  the  State  Militia.  He  shook  hands  with 
me  and  invited  me  to  be  seated,  saying  he  had  some 
business  to  attend  to  for  the  moment.  It  was  prob- 
ably an  hour  before  the  officers  left  and  the  general 
could  turn  to  me.  He  very  kindly  inquired  as  to 
my  trip  and  asked  about  Captain  Coldwell  and  the 
company.  He  then  told  me  about  the  arrest  of  the 
Horrell  boys  and  Sergeant  Reynolds'  commission  as 

120 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

first  lieutenant  commanding  Company  "E,"  vice 
Lieutenant  Foster  resigned.  He  explained  Reynolds 
had  requested  that  I  be  attached  to  his  command, 
and  ordered  me  to  report  to  my  new  commander 
in  Lampasas  without  delay. 

I  excused  myself  at  once  and  lost  no  time  in  get- 
ting my  horse  out  of  the  livery  stable  and  resuming 
my  way.  A  great  load  was  lifted  from  my  mind, 
and  I  was  about  as  happy  as  a  boy  could  be.  I  sang 
and  whistled  all  the  way  to  Liberty  Hill,  thirty 
miles  from  Austin.  The  following  day  about  2  p.  m. 
I  rode  into  Reynolds'  camp  at  Hancock  Springs. 

I  attracted  some  attention  as  I  rode  in,  for  I  wore 
a  big  Mexican  hat  mounted  with  silver,  a  buckskin 
jacket  fringed  from  shoulder  to  elbow  with  a  bunch 
of  flowers  braided  in  highly  colored  silk  on  its  back. 
On  my  heels  were  enormous  Mexican  spurs.  I 
never  saw  a  ranger  sent  to  the  Rio  Grande  for  the 
first  time  that  did  not  rig  himself  out  in  some  such 
outlandish  attire,  only  to  discard  it  a  few  weeks 
later,  never  to  wear  it  again.  I  was  no  exception, 
and  I  think  every  man  in  camp  tried  on  my  hat. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  selected  C.  L.  Nevill  for  first 
sergeant,  Henry  W.  McGee  as  second  sergeant,  and 
J.  W.  Warren  and  L.  W.  Conner,  first  and  second 
corporals,  respectively.  On  September  1,  1877,  the 
company  was  sworn  in.  The  new  command  was 

121 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  most  formidable  body  of  men  I  had  ever  seen. 
Our  commander,  Lieutenant  Reynolds,  was  over  six 
feet  tall  and  weighed  probably  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  pounds.  He  was  a  very  handsome  man, 
a  perfect  blond,  with  steel  blue  eyes  and  a  long, 
light  moustache.  At  that  time  he  was  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  vigorous  in  mind  and  body,  and  had 
a  massive  determination  to  succeed  as  a  ranger. 
His  mind  was  original,  bold,  profound  and  quick, 
with  a  will  that  no  obstacle  could  daunt.  He  was 
the  best  ranger  in  the  world — there  was  never  an- 
other like  him.  The  lieutenant  was  a  native  of 
Missouri,  and  was  always  known  as  "Major"  or 
"Mage"  Reynolds.  It  was  said  that  Reynolds, 
though  a  mere  boy,  had  served  with  the  Confed- 
erates in  the  latter  part  of  the  Civil  War.  He  was 
one  of  a  party  that  captured  a  troop  of  Federal  cav- 
alry, the  major  of  which  was  well  supplied  with 
clothing.  The  captors,  however,  were  very  scantily 
clad  and  Reynolds  appropriated  the  major's  uni- 
form, hence  his  nick-name  "Mage."  In  later  years 
when  I  had  grown  more  intimate  with  him  and  was 
probably  closer  to  him  than  any  other  I  mentioned 
this  story.  He  neither  affirmed  nor  denied  it,  declar- 
ing he  was  a  Missourian  by  birth,  a  bootmaker  by 
trade,  and  that  his  early  history  could  interest  no 
one. 

122 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

First  Sergeant  Nevill  was  six  feet  and  one  inch 
in  height  and  weighed  one  hundred  and  eighty-five 
pounds.  All  the  non-commissioned  officers  were  at 
least  six  feet  tall  and  built  in  proportion,  and  many 
of  the  privates  were  from  five  feet  eleven  inches  to 
six  feet  in  height.  I  was  probably  the  lightest  man 
in  the  company,  being  only  five  feet  nine  inches  and 
weighing  but  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds. 

When  the  company's  roster  was  complete  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds  had  but  twenty-eight  men, — lack- 
ing two  of  his  full  complement  of  thirty.  The  com- 
pany was  then  ordered  to  Austin,  but  before  being 
assigned  to  its  position  on  the  frontier  the  lieuten- 
ant enlisted  John  and  Will  Bannister,  two  celebrated 
frontiersmen.  They  were  old  cowboys,  splendid 
shots,  and  well  acquainted  with  every  part  of  Kim- 
ble,  Menard,  Mason,  and  Kerr  Counties,  in  which 
Company  "E"  was  destined  to  operate.  In  appear- 
ance and  ability  this  company  compared  favorably 
with  any  thirty  rangers  ever  sent  to  the  Texas  fron- 
tier. Nearly  every  member  of  the  company  had 
had  more  or  less  experience  as  an  officer,  and  all 
were  exceedingly  fine  marksmen.  Sergeant  Henry 
McGee  had  been  marshal  of  Waco  and  had  figured 
in  several  pistol  duels  in  that  city.  Dave  Ligon,  the 
oldest  man  in  the  command,  had  been  a  Confederate 


123 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

soldier  and  had  served  with  General  Forrest's  cav- 
alry. 

In  the  summer  of  1877,  Lieutenant  Armstrong  of 
Captain  Hall's  company,  assisted  by  Detective  Jack 
Duncan  of  Dallas,  Texas,  captured  the  notorious 
John  Wesley  Hardin.  It  has  been  said  that  Texas, 
the  largest  state  in  the  Union,  has  never  produced 
a  real  world's  champion  at  anything.  Surely,  such 
critics  overlooked  Hardin,  the  champion  desperado 
of  the  world.  His  life  is  too  well  known  in  Texas 
for  me  to  go  into  detail,  but,  according  to  his  own 
story,  which  I  have  before  me,  he  killed  no  fewer 
than  twenty-seven  men,  the  last  being  Charley 
Webb,  deputy  sheriff  of  Brown  County,  Texas.  So 
notorious  had  Hardin  become  that  the  State  of 
Texas  offered  $4000  reward  for  his  capture.  Hardin 
had  left  Texas  and  at  the  time  of  his  capture  was 
in  Florida.  His  captors  arrested  and  overpowered 
him  while  he  was  sitting  in  a  passenger  coach. 

In  September,  1877,  Sheriff  Wilson  of  Comanche 
County,  in  whose  jurisdiction  Hardin  had  killed 
Webb,  came  to  Austin  to  convey  the  prisoner  to 
Comanche  for  trial.  Wilson  requested  the  governor 
for  an  escort  of  rangers.  Lieutenant  Reynolds' 
company,  being  in  Austin  at  the  time,  was  ordered 
to  accompany  Wilson  and  protect  Hardin  from  mob 


124 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

violence.  This  was  the  first  work  assigned  Com- 
pany "E"  under  its  new  commander. 

The  day  we  left  Austin  between  one  and  two 
thousand  people  gathered  about  the  Travis  County 
jail  to  see  this  notorious  desperado.  The  rangers 
were  drawn  up  just  outside  the  jail,  and  Henry 
Thomas  and  myself  were  ordered  to  enter  the  prison 
and  escort  Hardin  out.  Heavily  shackled  and  hand- 
cuffed, the  prisoner  walked  very  slowly  between 
us.  The  boy  that  had  sold  fish  on  the  streets  of 
Austin  was  now  guarding  the  most  desperate  crim- 
inal in  Texas;  it  was  glory  enough  for  me. 

At  his  trial  Hardin  was  convicted  and  sentenced 
to  twenty-five  years  in  the  penitentiary.  He  al- 
pealed  his  case  and  was  returned  to  Travis  County 
for  safekeeping.  The  verdict  of  the  trial  court  was 
sustained,  and  one  year  later,  in  September,  1878, 
Lieutenant  Reynolds'  company  was  ordered  to  take 
Hardin  back  to  Comanche  County  for  sentence. 
There  was  no  railroad  at  Comanche  at  that  time, 
so  a  detachment  of  rangers,  myself  among  them, 
escorted  Hardin  to  the  penitentiary.  There  were 
ten  or  twelve  indictments  still  pending  against  him 
for  murder  in  various  counties,  but  they  were  never 
prosecuted. 

Hardin  served  seventeen  years  on  his  sentence, 
and  while  in  prison  studied  law.  Governor  Hogg 

125 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

pardoned  him  in  1894  and  restored  him  to  full  citi- 
zenship. 

In  transmitting  him  the  governor's  pardon,  Judge 
W.  S.  Fly,  Associate  Justice  of  the  Court  of  Appeals, 
wrote  Hardin  as  follows: 

Dear  Sir:  Enclosed  I  send  you  a  full  pardon  from 
the  Governor  of  Texas.  I  congratulate  you  on  its 
reception  and  trust  that  it  is  the  day  of  dawn  of  a 
bright  and  peaceful  future.  There  is  time  to  re- 
trieve a  lost  past.  Turn  your  back  upon  it  with  all 
its  suffering  and  sorrow  and  fix  your  eyes  upon  the 
future  with  the  determination  to  make  yourself  an 
honorable  and  useful  member  of  society.  The  hand 
of  every  true  man  will  be  extended  to  assist  you  in 
your  upward  course,  and  I  trust  that  the  name  of 
Hardin  will  in  the  future  be  associated  with  the  per- 
formance of  deeds  that  will  ennoble  his  family  and 
be  a  blessing  to  humanity. 

Did  you  ever  read  Victor  Hugo's  masterpiece, 
"Les  Miserables"?  If  not,  you  ought  to  read  it. 
It  paints  in  graphic  words  the  life  of  one  who  had 
tasted  the  bitterest  dregs  of  life's  cup,  but  in  his 
Christian  manhood  rose  about  it,  almost  like  a  god 
and  left  behind  him  a  path  luminous  with  good 
deeds. 

With  the  best  wishes  for  your  welfare  and  hap- 
piness, I  am,  Yours  very  truly, 

W.  S.  Fly. 

126 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

Despite  all  the  kind  advice  given  him  by  eminent 
lawyers  and  citizens,  Hardin  was  unequal  to  the 
task  of  becoming  a  useful  man.  He  practiced  law 
for  a  time  in  Gonzales,  then  drifted  away  to  El  Paso, 
where  he  began  drinking  and  gambling.  On  Au- 
gust 19,  1895,  Hardin  was  standing  at  a  bar  shak- 
ing dice  when  John  Selman,  constable  of  Precinct 
No.  1,  approached  him  from  behind  and,  placing  a 
pistol  to  the  back  of  Hardin's  head,  blew  his  brains 
out.  Though  posing  as  an  officer  Selman  was  him- 
self an  outlaw  and  a  murderer  of  the  worst  kind. 
He  killed  Hardin  for  the  notoriety  it  would  bring 
him  and  nothing  more. 

After  delivering  Hardin  to  the  sheriff  of  Travis 
County  in  1877,  Lieutenant  Reynolds  was  ordered 
to  Kimble  County  for  duty.  Of  all  the  counties  in 
Texas  at  that  time  Kimble  was  the  most  popular 
with  outlaws  and  criminals,  for  it  was  situated  south 
of  Menard  County  on  the  North  and  South  Llano 
Rivers,  with  cedar,  pecan  and  mesquite  timber  in 
which  to  hide,  while  the  streams  and  mountains 
furnished  abundance  of  fish  and  game  for  sub- 
sistence. 

Up  on  the  South  Llano  lived  old  Jimmie  Dublin. 
He  had  a  large  family  of  children,  most  of  them 
grown.  The  eldest  of  his  boys,  Dick,  or  Richard, 
as  he  was  known,  and  a  friend,  Ace  Lankf ord,  killed 

127 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

two  men  at  a  country  store  in  Lankford's  Cove, 
Coryell  County,  Texas.  The  state  offered  $500  for 
the  arrest  of  Dublin  and  the  County  of  Coryell  an 
additional  $200.  To  escape  capture  Dick  and  his 
companion  fled  west  into  Kimble  County.  While 
I  was  \vorking  as  cowboy  with  Joe  Franks  in  the 
fall  of  1873  I  became  acquainted  with  the  two  mur- 
derers, for  they  attached  themselves  to  our  outfit. 
They  were  always  armed  and  constantly  on  the 
watchout  for  fear  of  arrest.  Dublin  was  a  large 
man,  stout,  dark  complected,  and  looked  more  like 
the  bully  of  a  prize  ring  than  the  cowman  he  was. 
I  often  heard  him  say  he  would  never  surrender. 
While  cow  hunting  with  us  he  discovered  that  the 
naturally  brushy  and  tangled  county  of  Kimble 
would  offer  shelter  for  such  as  he,  and  persuaded 
his  father  to  move  out  into  that  county. 

Dublin  had  not  lived  long  in  Kimble  County  be- 
fore another  son,  Dell  Dublin,  killed  Jim  Williams, 
a  neighbor.  Thus  two  of  the  Dublin  boys  were  on 
the  dodge  charged  with  murder.  They  were  sup- 
posed to  be  hiding  near  their  father's  home.  Bill 
Allison,  Starke  Reynolds  and  a  number  of  bandits, 
horse  and  cattle  thieves  and  murderers,  were  known 
to  be  in  Kimble  County,  so  Lieutenant  Reynolds  was 
sent  with  his  company  to  clean  them  up. 

It  was  late  in  October,  1877,  before  the  company 
128 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

reached  its  destination  and  camped  on  the  North 
Llano  River  below  the  mouth  of  Bear  Creek.  As 
soon  as  our  horses  had  rested  and  camp  was  fully 
established  for  the  winter  we  began  scouting.  Sev- 
eral men  wanted  on  minor  charges  were  captured. 
We  then  raided  Luke  Stone's  ranch,  which  was 
about  ten  miles  from  our  camp,  and  captured  Dell 
Dublin.  He  was  fearfully  angry  when  he  found 
escape  impossible.  He  tore  his  shirt  bosom  open 
and  dared  the  rangers  to  shoot  him.  While  he  was 
being  disarmed  his  elder  brother,  Dick,  rode  out  of 
the  brush  and  came  within  gun  shot  of  the  ranch 
before  he  discovered  the  presence  of  the  rangers. 
He  turned  his  horse  quickly  and  made  his  escape, 
though  the  rangers  pursued  him  some  distance. 
When  Dick  learned  that  the  Banister  boys  and  my- 
self were  with  Lieutenant  Reynolds'  company  and 
hot  on  his  trail  he  declared  he  would  whip  us  with 
a  quirt  as  a  man  would  a  dog  if  he  ever  came  upon 
us,  for  he  remembered  us  as  beardless  boys  with 
the  Joe  Franks'  cow  outfit.  However,  despite  his 
threat,  he  never  attempted  to  make  it  good,  but 
took  very  good  care  to  keep  out  of  our  way  until 
the  fatal  January  18,  1878. 

There  was  no  jail  in  Kimble  County,  so  with  a 
detachment  of  rangers  I  took  Dell  Dublin  and  our 
other  prisoners  to  Llano  County  lockup. 

129 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Shortly  afterward  Reynolds  selected  Sergeant  Mc- 
Gee,  Tom  Gillespie,  Dick  Harrison,  and  Tim  Mc- 
Carthy and  made  a  scout  into  Menard  County.  He 
also  had  with  him  his  negro  cook,  George,  to  drive 
his  light  wagon.  On  the  return  toward  Bear  Creek 
the  scout  camped  for  the  night  at  Fort  McKavett. 
At  that  time  each  frontier  post  had  its  chihuahua 
or  scab  town,  a  little  settlement  with  gambling  halls, 
saloons,  etc.,  to  catch  the  soldiers'  dollars.  At  Fort 
McKavett  were  many  discharged  soldiers,  some  of 
them  negroes  from  the  Tenth  Cavalry.  These 
blacks  had  associated  with  white  gamblers  and  lewd 
women  until  they  thought  themselves  the  equals  of 
white  men,  and  became  mean  and  overbearing. 

On  this  particular  night  these  negro  ex-soldiers 
gave  a  dance  in  scab  town,  and  our  negro,  George, 
wanted  to  go.  He  was  a  light  mulatto,  almost  white, 
but  well  thought  of  by  all  the  boys  in  the  company. 
He  obtained  Lieutenant  Reynolds'  permission  to  at- 
tend the  dance,  and  borrowed  Tim  McCarthy's  pis- 
tol to  carry  to  it.  When  George  arrived  at  the  dance 
hall  the  ex-soldiers  did  not  like  his  appearance,  as 
he  was  allied  with  the  rangers,  whom  they  despised. 
They  jumped  on  George,  took  his  pistol  and  kicked 
him  out  of  the  place.  The  boys  were  all  in  bed 
when  George  returned  and  told  McCarthy  that  the 


130 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

negroes  at  the  dance  hall  had  taken  his  pistol  from 
him. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  was  sleeping  nearby  and 
heard  what  George  said.  He  raised  up  on  his  elbow 
and  ordered  Sergeant  McGee  to  go  with  McCarthy 
and  George  and  get  the  pistol.  The  negroes  saw 
McGee  coming  and,  closing  the  door,  defied  him  to 
enter  the  dance  hall. 

McGee  was  cool  and  careful.  He  advised  the 
negroes  to  return  the  pistol,  but  they  refused,  say- 
ing they  would  kill  the  first  white-livered  s —  o — 
b —  that  attempted  to  enter  the  house.  The  ser- 
geant then  stationed  himself  at  the  front  door,  or- 
dered McCarthy  to  guard  the  back  entrance  of  the 
place,  and  sent  George  for  the  lieu  tenant.  Reynolds 
hurried  to  the  scene,  taking  with  him  Tom  Gillespie 
and  Dick  Harrison.  The  lieutenant  knocked  on  the 
door  and  told  the  blacks  he  was  the  commander  of 
the  rangers  and  demanded  their  surrender.  They 
replied  with  an  oath  that  they  would  not  do  so. 
Reynolds  then  ordered  the  house  cleared  of  women 
and  gave  the  negroes  just  five  minutes  in  which  to 
surrender. 

Up  to  this  time  the  women  had  been  quiet,  but 
they  now  began  to  scream.  This  probably  demor- 
alized the  negro  men.  One  of  them  poked  Mc- 
Carthy's pistol,  muzzle  foremost,  out  of  a  window. 

131 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

"Here,  come  get  your  d — n  pistol,"  he  said. 

McCarthy,  a  new  man  in  the  service,  stepped  up 
and  grasped  it.  The  instant  the  negro  felt  the 
touch  of  McCarthy's  hand  on  the  weapon  he  pulled 
the  trigger.  The  ball  pierced  McCarthy's  body  just 
above  the  heart,  giving  him  a  mortal  wound. 

At  the  crack  of  the  pistol  the  rangers  opened  fire 
through  the  doors  and  windows  on  the  negroes 
within  the  house.  Reynolds  and  his  men  then 
charged  the  place,  and  when  the  smoke  of  battle 
cleared  they  found  four  dead  negro  men  and  a  little 
negro  girl  that  had  been  killed  by  accident.  Only 
one  black  escaped.  He  was  hidden  under  a  bed, 
and  as  the  rangers  came  in,  made  a  dash  to  safety 
under  cover  of  darkness.  McCarthy  died  the  fol- 
lowing day  and  was  buried  near  old  Fort  McKavett. 
Negro  George  fought  like  a  tiger  and  won  the  boys' 
praise. 

A  few  days  afterward  the  sheriff  of  Tom  Green 
County,  following  the  trail  of  a  bunch  of  stolen 
cattle  from  San  Angelo,  came  into  our  camp.  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds  sent  Sergeant  Nevill  and  a  scout 
of  rangers  with  the  sheriff.  The  trail  led  over  to 
the  South  Llano,  where  the  cattle  were  recovered. 
While  scouting  around  the  herd,  Sergeant  Nevill 
discovered  a  man  riding  down  the  trail  toward  him. 
He  and  his  men  secreted  themselves  and  awaited 

132 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

the  stranger's  approach.  It  was  getting  quite  dark, 
and  when  the  newcomer  had  ridden  almost  over 
the  concealed  rangers  without  noticing  their  pres- 
ence they  rose  up,  presented  their  guns  and  ordered 
him  to  halt. 

"Yes, — like  hell!"  he  exclaimed,  and,  turning  his 
horse,  dived  into  a  cedar  brake.  A  shower  of  bul- 
lets followed,  but  failed  to  strike  the  fugitive.  This 
was  the  notorious  Dick  Dublin  with  a  $700  reward 
on  his  head. 

Sergeant  Nevill  returned  to  camp  with  about 
fifty  head  of  burnt  cattle,  but  let  the  most  notorious 
criminal  in  the  county  escape.  Lieutenant  Reynolds 
was  disappointed  at  this,  and  said  he  did  not  under- 
stand how  four  crack  rangers  could  let  a  man  ride 
right  over  them  and  then  get  away.  He  declared 
his  negro  cook  could  have  killed  Dublin  had  he  been 
in  their  place.  This  mortified  the  boys  a  great  deal. 

The  latter  part  of  December,  1877,  Lieutenant 
Reynolds  sent  a  scout  out  on  Little  Saline,  Menard 
County.  On  Christmas  day  this  detail  had  a  run- 
ning fight  with  four  men.  John  Collins,  the  man 
who  stole  a  yoke  of  oxen  at  Fredericksburg  and 
drove  them  up  to  within  two  miles  of  our  camp, 
was  captured,  as  was  also  John  Gray,  wanted  for 
murder  in  one  of  the  eastern  counties.  Jim  Pope 


133 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Mason,  charged  with  the  murder  of  Ranee  Moore, 
was  in  this  skirmish,  but  escaped. 

One  cold  morning  about  the  middle  of  January 
Corporal  Gillett,  with  Privates  John  and  Will  Ban- 
ister, Tom  Gillespie,  Dave  Ligon,  and  Ben  Garter, 
was  ordered  on  a  five  days'  scout.  We  saddled  our 
horses  and  packed  two  mules.  When  all  was  ready 
I  walked  over  to  Lieutenant  Reynolds.  He  was  sit- 
ting on  a  camp  stool  before  his  tent  and  seemed  in 
a  brown  study.  I  saluted  and  asked  for  orders. 

"Well,  Corporal,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, "it  is  a  scout  after  Dick  Dublin  again.  That 
man  seems  to  be  a  regular  Jonah  to  this  company. 
He  lives  only  ten  miles  from  here  and  I  have  been 
awfully  disappointed  at  not  being  able  to  effect  his 
capture.  It  is  a  reflection  on  all  of  Company  'E.' 
There  is  one  thing  sure  if  I  can't  capture  him  I  will 
make  life  miserable  for  him.  I  will  keep  a  scout 
in  the  field  after  him  constantly." 

I  then  asked  if  he  had  any  instructions  as  to  the 
route  I  should  travel. 

"No,  no,"  he  replied.  "I  rely  too  much  on  your 
judgment  to  hamper  you  with  orders.  After  you 
are  once  out  of  sight  of  camp  you  know  these  moun- 
tains and  trails  better  than  I  do.  Just  go  and  do 
your  best.  If  you  come  in  contact  with  him  don't 
let  him  get  away." 

134 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

After  riding  a  half  mile  from  camp  the  boys  be- 
gan inquiring  where  we  were  going  and  who  we 
were  after.  I  told  them  Dick  Dublin.  We  quit 
the  road  and  traveled  south  from  our  camp  over 
to  the  head  of  Pack  Saddle  Creek.  Here  we  turned 
down  the  creek  and  rounded  up  the  Potter  ranch, 
but  no  one  was  at  home,  so  we  passed  on  into  the 
cedar  brake  without  having  been  seen. 

On  the  extreme  headwaters  of  South  Llano  River 
some  cattlemen  had  built  a  large  stock  pen  and 
were  using  it  to  confine  wild  cattle.  This  was  far 
out  beyond  any  settlement  and  probably  fifty  or 
sixty  miles  from  our  camp.  I  thought  it  possible 
that  Dick  Dublin  might  be  hanging  around  the 
place,  so  we  traveled  through  the  woods  most  of 
the  way  to  it.  Here  I  found  that  the  cattlemen  had 
moved. 

The  scout  had  now  been  out  two  days,  so  we  be- 
gan our  return  journey.  We  traveled  probably 
twenty-five  miles  on  the  third  day.  On  the  fourth 
day  I  timed  myself  to  reach  the  Potter  ranch  about 
night.  Old  man  Potter,  a  friend  and  neighbor  of 
Dublin's,  lived  here  with  two  grown  sons.  It  was 
known  that  Dublin  frequented  the  place,  and  I 
hoped  to  catch  him  here  unawares.  About  sun- 
down we  were  within  a  mile  of  the  ranch.  Here 
we  unsaddled  our  horses  and  prepared  to  round 

135 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

up  the  house.  If  we  met  with  no  success  we  were 
to  camp  there  for  the  night.  I  left  John  Banister 
and  Ligon  to  guard  camp  while  Gillespie,  Will  Ban- 
ister, and  Ben  Carter,  with  myself,  approached  the 
ranch  on  foot.  If  I  found  no  one  there  I  intended 
to  return  to  our  camp  unseen  and  round  up  the 
ranch  again  the  following  morning. 

We  had  not  traveled  far  before  we  discovered  a 
lone  man  riding  slowly  down  the  trail  to  the  Potter 
ranch.  We  remained  hidden  and  were  able  to  ap- 
proach within  fifty  yards  of  the  house  without  being 
seen.  We  now  halted  in  the  bed  of  a  creek  for  a 
short  consultation.  The  one-room  cabin  had  only 
a  single  door,  and  before  it  was  a  small  wagon. 
The  Potters  cooked  out  of  doors  between  the  house 
and  the  wagon.  We  could  see  a  horse  tied  to  the 
south  side  of  the  vehicle,  but  could  not  see  the  camp 
fire  for  the  wagon  and  the  horse.  To  our  right  and 
about  twenty-five  steps  away  old  man  Potter  and 
one  of  his  sons  were  unloading  some  hogs  from  a 
wagon  into  a  pen. 

We  knew  the  moment  we  left  the  creek  bed  we 
would  be  in  full  view  of  the  Potters  and  the  ranch 
house.  We  decided,  then,  that  we  would  advance 
on  the  house  as  fast  as  we  could  run  and  so  be  in 
good  position  to  capture  the  man  who  had  ridden 
into  the  camp.  We  rose  from  the  creek  running. 

136 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

Old  man  Potter  discovered  us  as  we  came  in  view 
and  yelled,  "Run,  Dick,  run!  Here  comes  the 
rangers !" 

We  then  knew  the  man  we  wanted  was  at  the 
camp.  We  were  so  close  upon  Dublin  that  he  had 
no  time  to  mount  his  horse  or  get  his  gun,  so  he 
made  a  run  for  the  brush.  I  was  within  twenty- 
five  yards  of  him  when  he  came  from  behind  the 
wagon,  running  as  fast  as  a  big  man  could.  I  or- 
dered him  to  halt  and  surrender,  but  he  had  heard 
that  call  too  many  times  and  kept  going.  Holding 
my  Winchester  carbine  in  my  right  hand  I  fired  a 
shot  directly  at  him  as  I  ran.  In  a  moment  he  was 
out  of  sight. 

I  hurried  to  the  place  where  he  was  last  seen  and 
spied  him  running  up  a  little  ravine.  I  stopped, 
drew  a  bead  on  him,  and  again  ordered  him  to  halt. 
As  he  ran,  Dublin  threw  his  hand  back  under  his 
coat  as  though  he  were  attempting  to  draw  a  pistol. 
I  fired.  My  bullet  struck  the  fugitive  in  the  small 
of  the  back  just  over  the  right  hip  bone  and  passed 
out  near  his  right  collarbone.  It  killed  him  in- 
stantly. He  was  bending  over  as  he  ran,  and  this 
caused  the  unusual  course  of  my  ball. 

The  boys,  whom  I  had  outrun,  now  joined  me, 
and  Garter  fired  two  shots  at  Dublin  after  he  was 
down.  I  ordered  him  to  desist  as  the  man  was 

137 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

dead.  I  examined  the  body  to  make  sure  it  was 
Dublin,  for  I  knew  him  intimately,  as  I  had  cow 
hunted  with  him  before  I  became  a  ranger.  We 
found  him  unarmed,  but  he  had  a  belt  of  cartridges 
around  his  waist.  He  was  so  completely  surprised 
by  our  sudden  appearance  he  could  do  nothing  but 
run.  The  $700  reward  on  him  could  never  be  col- 
lected, as  it  was  offered  for  his  arrest  and  convic- 
tion. Dublin's  brothers,  Role  and  Dell,  swore  ven- 
geance against  myself  and  the  Banister  boys,  but 
nothing  ever  came  of  the  oath. 

In  the  month  of  February,  1878,  Lieutenant 
Reynolds  started  to  Austin  with  five  prisoners  we 
had  captured  in  Kimble  and  Menard  Counties. 
They  were  chained  together  in  pairs,  John  Ste- 
phens, the  odd  man,  was  shackled  by  himself.  As 
guard  for  these  prisoners  Reynolds  had  detailed 
Will  and  John  Banister,  Dave  Ligon,  Ben  Carter, 
Dick  Ware,  and  myself. 

On  the  Junction  City  and  Mason  road,  some  ten 
miles  east  of  our  camp,  was  the  small  ranch  of 
Starke  Reynolds,  a  fugitive  from  justice,  charged 
with  horse  stealing  and  assault  to  kill.  Company 
"E"  had  scouted  for  him  in  Kimble  County  and  had 
rounded  up  his  ranch  many  times.  We  knew  he 
was  in  the  county,  but  he  always  managed  to  escape 
us.  As  we  passed  this  ranch,  Lieutenant  Reynolds, 

138 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

Privates  Ware,  Carter,  Ligon,  and  myself  were 
inarching  in  front,  with  a  four-mule  wagon  follow- 
ing us,  in  which  were  the  chained  prisoners.  Be- 
hind it  came  the  Banisters,  who  were  on  guard  that 
day  and  detailed  to  keep  a  constant  watch  on  the 
captive  outlaws. 

We  passed  the  Starke  Reynolds'  home  about  10 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  Lieutenant  Reynolds 
remarked  that  if  was  hardly  worth  while  to  round 
up  the  house  as  he  had  done  so  many  times  in  the 
past  without  result,  but  that  he  would  surely  like 
to  capture  the  fellow.  We  had  not  ridden  more 
than  half  a  mile  beyond  the  ranch  when  we  came 
face  to  face  with  Starke  himself.  He  was  a  small 
man  and  riding  an  exceedingly  good  brown  pony. 
We  were  about  four  hundred  yards  apart  and  dis- 
covered each  other  at  the  same  instant.  The  out- 
law was  carrying  a  small  sack  of  flour  in  front  of 
him.  He  immediately  threw  this  down,  turned  his 
horse  quickly  and  made  a  lightning  dash  for  the 
Llano  bottoms,  some  three  miles  away. 

At  that  point  the  Junction  City  and  Mason  road 
winds  along  a  range  of  high  mountains  with  the 
country  sloping  downward  to  the  Llano  River. 
This  grade  was  studded  with  scrubby  live  oak  and 
mesquite  brush  not  thick  enough  to  hide  a  man  but 
sufficiently  dense  to  retard  his  flight  through  it. 

139 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

We  gave  chase  at  once  and  for  a  mile  and  a  half 
it  was  the  fastest  race  I  ever  saw  the  rangers  run. 
We  were  closely  bunched  the  entire  distance,  with 
Lieutenant  Reynolds — he  was  riding  a  fast  race 
horse — always  slightly  in  the  lead.  He  finally  got 
close  enough  to  the  fugitive  to  demand  his  surren- 
der. Starke  only  waved  his  gun  defiantly  and  re- 
doubled his  speed.  Lieutenant  Reynolds  then  drew 
his  sixshooter  and  began  firing  at  the  outlaw.  After 
emptying  his  pistol  he  began  using  his  Winchester. 

The  Llano  bottoms  were  now  looming  right  up 
in  front  of  us.  The  race  had  been  fast  enough  to 
run  every  horse  into  a  big  limber.  Garter,  Ware, 
and  Ligon  dropped  out  of  the  race.  Up  to  this  time 
I  had  contented  myself  by  trying  to  keep  up  with 
Lieutenant  Reynolds,  for  it  is  always  easier  to  fol- 
low a  man  through  the  brush  than  to  run  in  the 
lead.  I  had  a  good  grip  on  my  bridle  reins  and 
was  trying  to  steady  my  pony  as  best  I  could.  I 
now  saw  that  the  outlaw  was  beginning  to  gain  on 
us.  I  ran  up  beside  the  lieutenant  and  said,  "He 
is  getting  away  from  us.  Must  I  go  after  him?" 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  turned  and  looked  at  me 
with  the  wildest  look  on  his  face  that  I  ever  saw. 
His  hat  was  gone,  his  face  was  badly  scratched  by 
the  brush  with  the  blood  running  down  over  his 
white  shirt  bosom. 

140 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

"Yes,  G —  d — n  him;  stop  or  kill  him!" 

I  changed  the  bridle  reins  to  my  left  hand,  drew 
my  gun  with  my  right  and,  digging  my  spurs  deep 
into  my  pony's  side,  I  was  out  of  sight  of  the  lieu- 
tenant in  three  hundred  yards.  The  fugitive  saw 
that  I  was  alone  and  that  I  was  going  to  overhaul 
him.  He  suddenly  brought  his  pony  to  a  standstill, 
jumped  down,  took  shelter  behind  the  animal  and 
drew  a  bead  on  me  with  his  gun. 

"G —  d — n  you,  stop,  or  I'll  kill  you!"  he  cried. 

I  tried  to  obey  his  order,  but  my  pony  was  run- 
ning down  hill  and  ran  straight  at  him  for  twenty- 
five  yards  more  before  I  could  stop.  I  jumped 
down  from  my  horse  and  made  ready  to  fight,  but 
Starke  broke  for  a  thicket  on  foot.  As  soon  as  he 
ran  out  from  behind  his  pony  I  fired  at  him.  The 
bullet  must  have  come  rather  close  to  him,  for  he 
turned  quickly  and  took  shelter  behind  his  mount 
again.  As  he  peeped  over  his  saddle  at  me  I  at- 
tempted to  draw  a  bead  on  his  head,  but  I  was  tired, 
nervous  and  unsteady.  Before  I  could  shoot  Dave 
Ligon  galloped  right  up  to  the  outlaw,  ordered  him 
to  surrender  and  drop  his  gun,  which  Starke  did 
at  once.  The  boys  had  heard  me  shoot  and  in  five 
minutes  were  all  upon  the  scene. 

The  captive  was  searched  and  ordered  to  remount 
his  pony.  With  one  of  the  boys  leading  Starke's 

141 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

mount  we  started  back  to  the  wagon,  nearly  three 
miles  away.  As  soon  as  the  outlaw  was  a  prisoner 
and  knew  he  would  not  be  harmed  no  matter  what 
he  said,  he  began  a  tirade  against  the  rangers.  He 
declared  the  whole  battalion  was  a  set  of  d — d 
murderers,  especially  Company  "E,"  and  said  it 
was  curbstone  talk  in  Menard,  Mason  and  Kimble 
Counties  that  Lieutenant  Reynolds'  men  would  kill 
a  man  and  then  yell  for  him  to  throw  up  his  hands. 
He  kept  up  this  running  talk  until  he  exhausted 
Lieutenant  Reynolds'  patience.  The  latter  then  or- 
dered Starke  to  shut  up,  and  declared  the  speaker 
was  a  d — d  liar,  for  Company  "E"  never  killed  a 
man  without  first  giving  him  a  chance  to  surrender. 
Lieutenant  Reynolds  then  said  that  with  the  last  old 
brier-breaker  captured  he  had  accomplished  the 
task  set  him  and  was  now  ready  to  go  elsewhere. 

As  we  rode  along  one  of  the  boys  remarked  that 
my  pony  was  limping  badly. 

"I  wish  his  leg  would  come  right  off  up  to  his 
shoulder,"  declared  Starke  in  disgust.  "It  it  hadn't 
been  for  him  I  would  have  made  it  to  the  bottoms 
and  escaped." 

On  approaching  the  wagon  the  prisoner  Stephens, 
a  man  of  some  intelligence  and  humor,  stood  up  and 
called  out  to  Starke,  "By  G — ,  old  man,  they  got 
you!  They  rode  too  many  corn  fed  horses  and 

142 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

carried  too  many  guns  for  you.  I  don't  know  who 
you  are,  but  I'm  sorry  for  you.  While  they  were 
chasing  you  I  got  down  on  my  knees  here  in  this 
wagon  and  with  my  face  turned  up  to  the  skies  I 
prayed  to  the  Almighty  God  that 'you  might  get 
away." 

Starke  was  chained  to  this  good-natured  liar,  and 
now,  for  the  first  time,  our  prisoner  seemed  to 
realize  his  condition.  He  asked  Lieutenant  Reynolds 
to  send  word  to  his  family  that  he  had  been  cap- 
tured. The  lieutenant  thereupon  sent  one  of  the 
boys  to  Starke's  home  to  tell  Mrs.  Reynolds  that 
the  rangers  would  camp  on  Red  Greek  for  dinner, 
and  if  she  wished  to  see  her  husband  we  would  be 
there  probably  two  hours. 

Presently  Starke's  old  gray-haired  father  came 
to  our  midday  camp.  When  he  saw  his  son  chained 
he  burst  out  crying,  saying,  "My  son,  it  is  not  my 
fault  that  you  are  in  this  condition.  I  did  my  best 
to  give  you  good  advice  and  tried  to  raise  you  right." 

After  dinner  we  resumed  our  march  toward  Aus- 
tin. Starke  Reynolds  was  finally  turned  over  to  the 
sheriff  of  Tarrant  County.  He  was  admitted  to  bail 
and  gave  bond,  but  before  he  came  to  trial  he  was 
waylaid  and  killed,  supposedly  by  relatives  of  the 
man  he  had  previously  attempted  to  murder. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1878  a  ranchman  living 
143 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

five  miles  above  our  camp  saw  a  bunch  of  Indians 
on  Bear  Greek,  Kimble  County,  and  at  once  reported 
to  Lieutenant  Reynolds.  The  redskins  had  been 
seen  late  in  the  evening,  and  by  the  time  a  scout 
could  be  started  after  them  it  was  almost  night. 
The  lieutenant,  however,  followed  the  trail  until 
it  entered  a  cedar  brake.  It  wras  then  too  dark  to 
work  farther,  so  the  scout  returned  to  camp  to 
make  arrangements  to  resume  the  trail  the  follow- 
ing morning.  On  the  march  back  to  camp  the 
rangers  picked  up  a  paint  pony  with  an  arrow  stick- 
ing in  its  hip.  The  Indians  had  probably  tried  to 
catch  the  horse  and,  failing  to  do  so,  had  shot  it, 
as  was  their  custom. 

Just  after  dark  a  runner  from  Junction  City  came 
in  and  reported  a  bunch  of  redskins  had  been  seen 
near  the  town  stealing  horses.  It  was  a  beautiful 
moonlight  night  and  a  close  watch  was  kept  on 
our  horses.  Just  at  midnight  John  Banister,  an 
alert  man  on  guard,  noticed  that  one  of  our  pack 
mules  hitched  at  the  end  of  our  picket  line  was 
pulling  back  on  its  rope  and  looking  over  a  brush 
fence  that  enclosed  the  camp.  With  Winchester 
in  hand  Banister  passed  through  a  gate,  walked 
slowly  down  the  fence  and  into  some  small  under- 
brush near  the  mule. 

Suddenly  a  man  rose  to  his  feet  and  fired  on  Ban- 
144 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

ister  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than  ten  steps,  then 
broke  and  ran.  Banister  at  once  opened  fire  on 
the  Indian.  The  very  first  report  of  a  gun  brought 
every  man  in  camp  out  of  his  bed.  We  could  see 
the  flashes  of  Banister's  gun  and  went  to  his  aid 
in  our  night  clothes  and  barefooted.  I  ran  down 
by  the  picket  line  of  horses  and  jumped  the  fence 
where  the  mule  had  seen  the  redskin.  By  moon- 
light I  could  glimpse  the  Indian  running  down  the 
river  bank.  I  shot  at  him  nine  times  as  he  ran, 
but  without  effect.  Some  two  hundred  yards  be- 
low our  camp  was  a  ford  on  the  Llano  and  the 
fugitive  was  making  for  it. 

Just  as  soon  as  the  Indian  reached  the  crossing 
and  plunged  into  the  river,  eight  or  nine  of  the 
rangers  that  had  followed  Banister  on  the  high 
ground  were  in  a  position  to  shell  the  swimmer  as 
he  crossed.  There  were  probably  a  hundred  shots 
fired  at  him,  but  he  finally  disappeared  in  the  brush 
on  the  south  side  of  the  river.  Investigation  of  the 
place  where  he  crossed  showed  the  timber  cut  all 
to  pieces  but,  strange  to  say,  not  a  shot  hit  the 
Indian  as  far  as  we  ever  knew.  We  found  a  blanket 
where  the  savage  had  risen  and  shot  at  Banister 
and,  measuring  the  ground,  found  that  the  ranger 
was  just  twelve  short  steps  from  the  Indian  when 
fired  upon  by  the  redskin.  It  was  a  miracle  that 

145 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Banister  was  not  killed;  the  bullet,  a  .45  caliber, 
buried  itself  in  some  sacks  of  corn  in  a  tent  just 
back  of  him. 

The  next  morning  we  found  where  ten  or  twelve 
Indians  had  waited  under  some  large  pecan  trees 
while  this  scout  slipped  up  to  our  camp  to  investi- 
gate and  steal  a  horse.  The  trees  were  about  four 
hundred  yards  from  camp  and  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river.  Some  of  the  rangers  jokingly  said 
those  old  braves  must  have  thought  this  lone  one 
stirred  up  hell  at  the  ranger  camp. 

On  account  of  the  range  cattle  and  horses  along 
the  Llano  River,  Lieutenant  Reynolds  lost  some 
eight  or  ten  hours  the  next  morning  before  picking 
up  the  Indian  trail.  This  gave  the  redskins  ten  or 
twelve  hours  start,  as  they  were  at  our  camp  just 
at  midnight.  The  trail  passed  out  west  between 
North  and  South  Llano  Rivers  and  followed  a  rough 
mountain  country  that  made  pursuit  difficult  and 
slow.  We  followed  the  savages  five  or  six  days 
and  finally  abandoned  the  trail  near  the  head  of 
Devil's  River  after  a  heavy  rain. 

While  we  had  been  active  in  rounding  up  the 
numerous  outlaws  and  cattle  thieves  that  infested 
Kimble  County,  we  had  not  been  able  to  clean  up 
the  mystery  of  the  Peg  Leg  stage  robbers,  which 
had  long  baffled  the  best  detectives,  sheriffs,  and 

146 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

rangers.  Peg  Leg  was  a  small  stage  station  on  the 
San  Saba  in  the  midst  of  a  rough  and  very  moun- 
tainous country.  Here  the  stage  was  repeatedly 
held  up  and  as  repeatedly  the  robbers  escaped.  The 
scene  of  the  hold-up  was  many  times  examined  and 
parties  made  determined  efforts  to  trail  the  bandits 
but  always  without  success,  for  the  trail  was  quickly 
lost  in  the  rough  mountains.  One  of  the  features 
that  proved  particularly  puzzling  was  the  constant 
recurrence  of  an  exceedingly  small  footprint  at  each 
robbery.  These  marks  were  so  very  small  they  con- 
vinced many  observers  that  a  woman  from  Fort 
McKavett  or  Fort  Concho  was  operating  with  the 
bandit  gang.  Naturally  the  rangers  were  anxious 
to  round  up  this  group  of  outlaws  and  put  a  stop 
to  their  depredations. 

In  May,  1878,  Sergeant  Nevill  made  a  scout  up 
on  the  South  Llano  and  captured  Bill  Alison,  a  son- 
in-law  of  old  Jimmie  Dublin,  father  of  the  bandit, 
Dick  Dublin.  Alison  was  wanted  on  several  charges 
of  cattle  theft,  and  was  taken  to  Austin  for  safe- 
keeping. After  remaining  in  the  Travis  County  jail 
for  nearly  a  year  without  being  able  to  give  bond, 
Alison  became  discouraged.  He  believed  his 
brothers-in-law,  the  Dublins,  were  not  aiding  him 
to  get  bond  and  became  bitter  and  resentful  toward 


147 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

them.  This  antagonism  finally  led  to  the  unveiling 
of  the  Peg  Leg  mystery. 

In  the  spring  of  1879  Dick  Ware  and  myself  took 
some  prisoners  to  the  Austin  jail.  Bill  Alison  saw 
us  and  called  out  to  me.  He  and  I  had  been  cow- 
boys together  long  before  I  became  a  ranger. 

"Jim,"  said  Alison,  "you  know  I  have  been  cooped 
up  here  in  this  jail  for  nearly  a  year.  People  who 
ought  to  be  my  friends  have  evidently  abandoned 
me  and  I  am  not  going  to  stand  it  any  longer.  I 
can  put  the  Peg  Leg  stage  robbers  behind  the  bars, 
and  I  am  going  to  do  it." 

Ware,  who  was  something  of  a  diplomat,  said, 
"Hold  on,  Bill.  If  you  have  anything  to  confess  we 
will  get  an  order  from  the  sheriff  to  take  you  to 
see  General  Jones  so  you  can  talk  to  him." 

The  general  at  once  wrote  a  note  to  Dennis  Cor- 
win,  sheriff  of  Travis  County,  and  asked  that  he  let 
Alison  accompany  us  to  his  office.  The  sheriff 
turned  his  prisoner  over  to  us  and  we  took  him  to 
General  Jones,  who  had  a  private  interview  with 
him  for  over  an  hour.  What  Alison  confessed  we 
did  not  know,  but  we  returned  him  to  the  jail. 

General  Jones  moved  quickly,  for  the  very  next 
day  a  scout  of  rangers  from  Company  "E"  was 
sent  back  to  Kimble  County.  I  was  just  preparing 
to  go  west  to  El  Paso  with  Colonel  Baylor,  so  I 

148 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

missed  this  last  and  most  important  scout  back  into 
Kimble  County.  However,  this  final  expedition  was 
so  successful  I  cannot  omit  it  from  a  history  of  the 
rangers. 

Arriving  at  Kimble  County  the  Company  "E" 
detail  arrested  Role  and  Dell  Dublin,  Mack  Potter 
and  Rube  Boyce.  In  the  running  fight  that  resulted 
in  their  capture  Role  received  a  bad  wound  in  the 
hip.  The  two -Dublin  brothers  and  Mack  Potter 
when  arraigned  in  Federal  court  plead  guilty  to 
stage  robbery  and  were  sentenced  to  fifteen  years 
at  hard  labor.  During  their  trial  the  mystery  of 
the  Peg  Leg  robberies  was  finally  cleared  up.  The 
Dublin  boys  were  the  guiding  spirits  in  the  hold- 
ups and  worked  with  great  cleverness.  Old  man 
Jimmie  Dublin's  ranch  on  the  South  Llano  was  their 
headquarters.  From  the  ranch  to  Peg  Leg  Station 
on  the  San  Saba  was  not  more  than  sixty  miles 
across  a  rough,  mountainous  country.  As  there 
were  no  wire  fences  in  those  days  the  robbers  would 
ride  over  to  the  station,  rob  the  stage  and  in  one 
night's  ride  regain  their  home.  Traveling  at  night 
they  were  never  observed.  Dick  Dublin,  whose 
death  while  resisting  capture  has  already  been  de- 
scribed, was  the  leader  of  the  bandit  gang.  Even 
the  mystery  of  the  tiny  footprints  was  disclosed; 


149 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

they  were  made  by  Mack  Potter,  who  had  an  un- 
usually small  foot  for  a  man. 

While  Rube  Boyce  was  confined  in  the  Travis 
County  jail  he  made  one  of  the  most  sensational 
jail  escapes  in  the  criminal  annals  of  Texas.  Mrs. 
Boyce  called  at  the  prison  with  a  suit  of  clean 
underclothes  for  her  husband.  The  basket  in 
which  she  carried  them  was  examined  and  she  was 
admitted  into  the  cell  of  her  husband.  However, 
she  had  hidden  a  big  .45  Colt's  revolver  about  her 
person  and  smuggled  it  in.  Rube  changed  his 
underwear,  put  the  soiled  garments  in  the  basket 
and  hid  the  pistol  under  them. 

At  the  end  of  her  visit  Mrs.  Boyce  started  out 
and  Rube  accompanied  her  down  the  corridor  to 
the  door.  Mr.  Albert  Nichols,  the  jailer,  opened  the 
door  with  his  left  hand  to  let  the  woman  pass  out, 
at  the  same  time  holding  his  pistol  in  his  right 
hand.  As  the  door  swung  open  Rube  reached  into 
the  basket  he  was  carrying  for  his  wife,  whipped 
out  the  hidden  pistol,  thrust  it  into  the  jailer's  face 
and  ordered  him  to  drop  his  .45  and  step  within  the 
jail.  Realizing  that  a  second's  hesitation  would 
mean  his  death,  Nichols  complied  and  was  locked 
in  by  the  outlaw. 

Boyce  then  ran  out  of  the  back  yard  of  the  jail, 
mounted  a  pony  that  had  been  hitched  there  for 

150 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

him  and  galloped  out  of  Austin,  firing  his  pistol  as 
he  ran.  He  made  a  complete  get-away.  Three  or 
four  years  later  he  was  arrested  at  Socorro,  New 
Mexico,  and  returned  to  Austin.  At  his  trial  for 
participation  in  the  Peg  Leg  stage  robberies  he  was 
acquitted,  and  perhaps  justly  so,  for  Bill  Alison  de- 
clared to  me  that  Dick  Dublin  with  his  brothers  Dell 
and  Role  and  Mack  Potter  were  the  real  robbers. 

The  arrest  and  conviction  of  the  Dublins,  together 
with  the  other  men  Lieutenant  Reynolds  had  cap- 
tured or  killed  completely  cleaned  out  the  stage  rob- 
bers, cattle  and  horse  thieves  and  murderers  that 
had  made  Kimble  County  their  rendezvous.  Today 
Kimble  County  is  one  of  the  most  prosperous  and 
picturesque  counties  in  the  state.  Its  citizens  are 
law-abiding  and  energetic.  Junction  City,  the 
county  seat,  is  a  splendid  little  city  of  probably 
twenty-five  hundred  inhabitants. 

Forty  years  ago,  the  time  of  which  I  write,  there 
were  no  courthouses  in  Kimble  County.  The  first 
district  courts  were  held  under  the  spreading  boughs 
of  a  large  oak  tree.  The  rangers,  of  which  I  was 
frequently  one,  guarded  the  prisoners  under  another 
tree  at  a  convenient  distance  from  the  judge  and 
his  attendants. 

Late  in  the  spring  or  early  summer  of  1878  at  a 
session  of  the  County  Court  of  San  Saba  County, 

151 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Billy  Brown  was  being  prosecuted  by  County  At- 
torney Brooks  for  a  violation  of  the  prohibition 
laws.  Brown  took  offense  at  a  remark  of  the  prose- 
cuting attorney  and  attempted  to  draw  his  six- 
shooter  on  him.  T.  J.  T.  Kendall,  a  law  partner 
of  Brooks,  saw  Brown's  move  and  quickly  whip- 
ping out  his  own  pistol,  he  killed  Brown  in  the 
courtroom.  Then,  fearing  a  mob  if  captured,  Ken- 
dall fortified  himself  in  a  second  story  of  the  court- 
house and  refused  to  surrender.  He  held  the  whole 
town  at  bay  while  his  wife  administered  to  his 
wants.  Meantime,  he  sent  a  hurry  call  to  the  near- 
est rangers  asking  for  protection  against  mob  vio- 
lence. Captain  Arrington  received  the  message  and 
sent  a  detachment  from  Coleman  to  San  Saba  to 
preserve  order. 

General  Jones  was  notified  and  ordered  Lieuten- 
ant Reynolds  at  Junction  City  to  march  to  San  Saba 
with  his  company,  take  charge  of  Kendall  and  re- 
lieve Captain  Arlington's  men.  It  was  probably  two 
weeks  after  the  killing  before  Company  "E"  reached 
San  Saba,  but  Mr.  Kendall  was  still  holding  fort  in 
the  upper  story  of  the  courthouse. 

On  the  arrival  of  Reynolds'  company,  Kendall 
asked  the  court  for  a  preliminary  examination. 
When  court  convened,  the  prisoner  waived  exami- 
nation and  asked  for  transference  to  the  Travis 

152 


SERVICE  WITH  REYNOLDS,  THE  INTREPID 

County  jail  at  Austin.  The  court,  realizing  the  feel- 
ing against  Kendall,  ordered  his  removal  thither. 

When  the  time  came  for  Kendall's  removal  a 
hack  was  driven  up  to  the  courthouse  door,  where 
a  great  crowd  had  assembled  to  see  the  prisoner. 
Jim  Rrown,  sheriff  of  Lee  County,  Texas,  and 
brother  of  Bill  Brown,  heavily  armed,  had  taken 
his  station  within  ten  feet  of  the  prison  door.  Just 
before  Mr.  Kendall  descended  the  courthouse  steps 
Lieutenant  Reynolds  ordered  the  crowd  to  fall  back 
fifty  feet  from  the  hack.  The  people  immediately 
obeyed  with  the  exception  of  Jim  Brown,  who  sat 
perfectly  still  on  his  horse.  The  lieutenant  looked 
at  Brown  for  a  minute,  then  turned  to  his  rangers 
and  ordered  them  to  draw  their  guns  and  move 
everyone  fifty  yards  from  the  courthouse.  Like  a 
flash  every  ranger  drew  his  gun,  dismounted  and 
waved  the  crowd  back. 

Brown  turned  to  Reynolds  and  said,  "I  am  going 
to  Austin  with  you." 

"If  you  do,  you  will  go  in  irons.     Move  back!" 

Brown,  who  had  killed  several  men,  slowly  turned 
his  horse  and  rode  away.  He  did  not  know  the  man 
with  whom  he  was  dealing.  Lawyer  Kendall  was 
thereupon  carried  to  Austin  without  incident. 

When  we  reached  Austin,  Jim  Brown  met  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds  on  the  street  and  apologized  for 

153 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  way  he  had  acted  at  San  Saba.  He  said  he  fully 
intended  to  kill  Kendall  as  he  approached  the  hack, 
but  the  presence  of  so  many  rangers  caused  him  to 
change  his  mind.  Lieutenant  Reynolds  declared  he 
was  anticipating  just  such  a  move  and  had  in- 
structed his  men  to  shoot  Brown  into  doll  rags  at 
Ms  first  move. 

Soon  after  this  Lieutenant  Reynolds  moved  Com- 
pany "E"  down  on  the  San  Saba  in  a  beautiful 
pecan  grove,  an  ideal  summer  camp,  about  two 
miles  from  the  town  of  San  Saba.  From  this  point 
we  scouted  all  over  Llano,  Lampasas,  Burnet  and 
San  Saba  Counties  at  our  favorite  pursuit  of  round- 
ing up  bad  men.  It  was  from  this  camp  that  we 
made  our  sensational  ride  to  Round  Rock  after 
Sam  Bass,  the  notorious  train  robber. 


154 


CHAPTER  IX 
SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

Sam  Bass,  the  noted  train  robber,  was  born  in 
Indiana,  July  21,  1851.  He  came  to  Texas  while 
quite  a  youth  and  worked  for  Sheriff  Everhart  of 
Denton  County  until  he  reached  manhood.  While 
still  an  exemplary  and  honest  young  man,  Bass 
came  into  possession  of  a  small  race  pony,  a  little 
sorrel  mare.  On  Saturday  evenings,  when  most  of 
the  neighborhood  boys  met  in  Denton,  Bass  raced 
his  pony  with  much  success.  Mr.  Everhart  soon 
noticed  that  Sam  was  beginning  to  neglect  his  work 
because  of  his  pony  and,  knowing  only  too  well 
what  this  would  lead  to,  he  advised  Sam  to  sell  his 
mare.  Bass  hesitated,  for  he  loved  the  animal. 
Finally  matters  came  to  such  a  point  that  Mr.  Ever- 
hart told  Sam  he  would  have  to  get  rid  of  the  horse 
or  give  up  his  job.  Thereupon  Bass  promptly  quit, 
and  this  was  probably  the  turning  point  in  his  life. 

Bass  left  Denton  County  in  the  spring  of  1877 
and  traveled  to  San  Antonio.  Here  many  cattlemen 
were  gathered  to  arrange  for  the  spring  cattle  drive 
to  the  north.  Joel  Collins,  who  was  planning  to 
drive  a  herd  from  Uvalde  County  to  Deadwood, 
Dakota,  hired  Bass  as  a  cowboy.  After  six  months 

155 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

on  the  trail  the  herd  reached  Deadwood  and  was 
sold  and  all  the  cowboys  paid  off  by  Mr.  Collins. 

At  that  period  Deadwood  was  a  great,  wide  open 
mining  town.  Adventurers,  gamblers,  mining  and 
cattlemen  all  mingled  together.  Though  Joel  Col- 
lins had  bought  his  cattle  on  credit  and  owed  the 
greater  part  of  the  money  he  had  received  for  them 
to  his  friends  in  Texas,  he  gambled  away  all  the 
money  he  had  received  for  the  herd.  When  he 
sobered  up  and  realized  all  his  money  was  gone  he 
did  not  have  the  moral  courage  to  face  his  friends 
and  creditors  at  home.  He  became  desperate,  and 
with  a  band  of  his  cowboys  held  up  and  robbed 
several  stage  coaches  in  the  Black  Hills.  These 
robberies  brought  Collins  very  little  booty,  but  they 
started  Sam  Bass  on  his  criminal  career. 

In  the  fall  of  1877,  Collins,  accompanied  by  Bass, 
Jack  Davis,  Jim  Berry,  Bill  Heffridge,  and  John 
Underwood,  better  known  as  Old  Dad,  left  Dead- 
wood  and  drifted  down  to  Ogallala,  Nebraska.  Here 
he  conceived,  planned  and  carried  into  execution 
one  of  the  boldest  train  robberies  that  ever  occurred 
in  the  United  States  up  to  that  time.  When  all  was 
ready  these  six  men,  heavily  armed  and  masked, 
held  up  the  Union  Pacific  train  at  Big  Springs,  a 
small  station  a  few  miles  beyond  Ogallala.  The 
bandits  entered  the  express  car  and  ordered  the 

156 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

messenger  to  open  the  safe.  The  latter  explained 
that  the  through  safe  had  a  time  lock  and  could 
only  be  opened  at  the  end  of  the  route.  One  of  the 
robbers  then  began  to  beat  the  messenger  over  the 
head  with  a  sixshooter,  declaring  he  would  kill  him 
if  the  safe  were  not  opened.  Bass,  always  of  a 
kindly  nature,  pleaded  with  the  man  to  desist,  de- 
claring he  believed  the  messenger  was  telling  the 
truth.  Just  as  the  robbers  were  preparing  to  leave 
the  car  without  a  cent  one  of  them  noticed  three 
stout  little  boxes  piled  near  the  big  safe.  The  curi- 
ous bandit  seized  a  coal  pick  and  knocked  off  the 
lid  of  the  top  box.  To  his  great  joy  and  delight 
he  exposed  $20,000  in  shining  gold  coin !  The  three 
boxes  each  held  a  similar  amount,  all  in  $20  gold 
pieces  of  the  mintage  of  1877. 

After  looting  these  boxes  the  robbers  went 
through  the  train,  and  in  a  systematic  manner 
robbed  the  passengers  of  about  $5000.  By  day- 
light the  bandits  had  hidden  their  booty  and  re- 
turned to  Ogallala.  They  hung  around  town  several 
days  while  railroad  officials,  United  States  marshals 
and  sheriffs'  parties  were  scouring  the  country  for 
the  train  robbers. 

While  in  Ogallala  before  and  after  the  robbery, 
Collins  and  his  men  frequented  a  large  general  mer- 
chandise store.  In  this  store  was  a  clerk  who  had 

157 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

once  been  an  express  messenger  on  the  Union  Pa- 
cific and  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  officials 
of  that  company.  I  have  forgotten  his  name,  but 
I  will  call  him  Moore  for  the  sake  of  clearness  in 
my  narrative.  Of  course  the  great  train  robbery 
was  the  talk  of  the  town.  Moore  conversed  with 
Collins  and  his  gang  about  the  hold-up,  and  the 
bandits  declared  they  would  help  hunt  the  robbers 
if  there  was  enough  money  in  it. 

Moore's  suspicions  were  aroused  and  he  became 
convinced  that  Collins  and  his  band  were  the  real 
hold-up  men.  However,  he  said  nothing  to  anyone 
about  this  belief,  but  carefully  watched  the  men. 
Finally,  Collins  came  to  the  store  and,  after  buy- 
ing clothing  and  provisions,  told  Mr.  Moore  that 
he  and  his  companions  were  going  back  to  Texas 
and  would  be  up  the  trail  the  following  spring  with 
another  herd  of  cattle.  When  Collins  had  been 
gone  a  day's  travel,  Mr.  Moore  hired  a  horse  and 
followed  him.  He  soon  found  the  route  the  sus- 
pects were  traveling,  and  on  the  second  day  Moore 
came  upon  them  suddenly  while  they  were  stopping 
at  a  roadside  farmhouse  to  have  some  bread  cooked. 
Moore  passed  by  without  being  noticed  and  secreted 
himself  near  the  highway.  In  a  short  time  Collins 
and  his  men  passed  on  and  Moore  trailed  them 
until  they  went  into  camp.  When  it  was  dark  the 

158 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

amateur  detective  crept  up  to  the  bandits,  but  they 
had  gone  to  sleep  and  he  learned  nothing. 

The  next  day  Moore  resumed  the  trail.  He 
watched  the  gang  make  their  camp  for  the  night 
and  again  crept  up  to  within  a  few  yards  of  his  sus- 
pects. The  bandits  had  built  a  big  fire  and  were 
laughing  and  talking.  Soon  they  spread  out  a 
blanket,  and  to  Moore's  great  astonishment  brought 
out  some  money  bags  and  emptied  upon  the  blanket 
sixty  thousand  dollars  in  gold.  From  his  concealed 
position  the  trailer  heard  the  robbers  discuss  the 
hold-up.  They  declared  they  did  not  believe  anyone 
had  recognized  or  suspected  them  and  decided  it 
was  now  best  for  them  to  divide  the  money,  sep- 
arate in  pairs  and  go  their  way.  The  coin  was 
stacked  in  six  piles  and  each  man  received  $10,000 
in  $20  gold  pieces.  It  was  further  decided  that 
Collins  and  Bill  Heffridge  would  travel  back  to  San 
Antonio,  Texas,  together;  Sam  Bass  and  Jack  Davis 
were  to  go  to  Denton  County,  Texas,  while  Jim 
Berry  and  Old  Dad  were  to  return  to  the  Berry 
home  in  Mexico,  Missouri. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Moore  had  seen  the  money  and 
heard  the  robbers'  plans  he  slipped  back  to  his 
horse,  mounted  and  rode  day  and  night  to  reach 
Ogallala.  He  notified  the  railroad  officials  of  what 
he  had  seen,  gave  the  names  and  descriptions  of 

159 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  bandits  and  their  destinations.  This  informa- 
tion was  sent  broadcast  over  southern  Nebraska, 
Kansas,  Indian  Territory,  and  Texas.  In  the  fugi- 
tive list  sent  to  each  of  the  companies  of  the  Fron- 
tier Battalion  of  rangers  Sam  Bass  was  thus  de- 
scribed :  "Twenty-five  to  twenty-six  years  old,  5  feet 
7  inches  high,  black  hair,  dark  brown  eyes,  brown 
moustache,  large  white  teeth,  shows  them  when 
talking;  has  very  little  to  say." 

A  few  days  after  the  separation  of  the  robbers, 
Joel  Collins  and  Bill  Heffridge  rode  into  a  small 
place  in  Kansas  called  Buffalo  Station.  They  led 
a  pack  pony.  Dismounting  from  their  tired  horses 
and  leaving  them  standing  in  the  shade  of  the  store 
building,  the  two  men  entered  the  store  and  made 
several  purchases.  The  railroad  agent  at  the  place 
noticed  the  strangers  ride  up.  He  had,  of  course, 
been  advised  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  the  train  rob- 
bers. He  entered  the  store  and  in  a  little  while 
engaged  Collins  in  conversation.  While  talking  the 
robber  pulled  his  handkerchief  out  of  his  coat 
pocket  and  exposed  a  letter  with  his  name  thereon. 
The  agent  was  a  shrewd  man.  He  asked  Collins  if 
he  had  not  driven  a  herd  of  cattle  up  the  trail  in 
the  spring.  Collins  declared  he  had,  and  finally,  in 
answer  to  a  direct  question,  admitted  that  his  name 
was  Joel  Collins. 

160 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

Five  or  six  hundred  yards  from  Buffalo  Station 
a  lieutenant  of  the  United  States  Army  had  camped 
a  troop  of  ten  men  that  was  scouting  for  the  train 
robbers.  As  soon  as  Collins  and  Heffridge  re- 
mounted and  resumed  their  way  the  agent  ran 
quickly  to  the  soldiers'  camp,  pointed  out  the  ban- 
dits to  the  lieutenant  and  declared,  "There  go  two 
of  the  Union  Pacific  train  robbers!" 

The  army  officer  mounted  his  men  and  pursued 
Collins  and  Heffridge.  When  he  overtook  the  two 
men  he  told  them  their  descriptions  tallied  with 
those  of  some  train  robbers  that  he  was  scouting 
for,  and  declared  they  would  have  to  go  back  to  the 
station  and  be  identified.  Collins  laughed  at  the 
idea,  and  declared  that  he  and  his  companion  were 
cattlemen  returning  to  their  homes  in  Texas.  They 
reluctantly  turned  and  started  back  with  the  sol- 
diers. After  riding  a  few  hundred  yards  the  two 
robbers  held  a  whispered  conversation.  Suddenly 
the  two  pulled  their  pistols  and  attempted  to  stand 
off  the  lieutenant  and  his  troop.  The  desperadoes 
were  promptly  shot  and  killed.  On  examining 
their  packs  the  soldiers  found  tied  up  in  the  legs 
of  a  pair  of  overalls  $20,000  in  gold,  1877  mintage. 
Not  a  dollar  of  the  stolen  money  had  been  used 
and  there  was  no  doubt  about  the  identity  of  the 
men. 

161 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Not  long  after  the  divide  up  in  Nebraska  Jim 
Berry  appeared  at  his  home  in  Mexico,  Missouri. 
At  once  he  deposited  quite  a  lot  of  money  in  the 
local  bank  and  exchanged  $3000  in  gold  for  cur- 
rency, explaining  his  possession  of  the  gold  by  say- 
ing he  had  sold  a  mine  in  the  Black  Hills.  In  three 
or  four  days  the  sheriff  of  the  county  learned  of 
Berry's  deposits  and  called  at  the  bank  to  see  the 
new  depositor's  gold.  His  suspicion  became  a  cer- 
tainty when  he  found  that  Berry  had  deposited 
$20  gold  pieces  of  1877. 

At  night  the  sheriff  with  a  posse  rounded  up 
Berry's  house,  but  the  suspect  was  not  there.  The 
home  was  well  provisioned  and  the  posse  found 
many  articles  of  newly  purchased  clothing.  Just 
after  daylight,  while  searching  about  the  place  the 
sheriff  heard  a  horse  whinny  in  some  timber  nearby. 
Upon  investigating  this  he  suddenly  came  upon 
Jim  Berry  sitting  on  a  pallet.  Berry  discovered  the 
officer  at  about  the  same  time  and  attempted  to 
escape  by  running.  He  was  fired  upon,  one  bullet 
striking  him  in  the  knee  and  badly  shattering  it. 
He  was  taken  to  his  home  and  given  the  best  of 
medical  attention,  but  gangrene  set  in  and  he  died 
in  a  few  days.  Most  of  his  $10,000  was  recovered. 
Old  Dad  evidently  quit  Berry  somewhere  en  route, 


162 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

for  he  made  good  his  escape  with  his  ill-gotten  gain 
and  was  never  apprehended. 

Sam  Bass  and  Jack  Davis,  after  the  separation  in 
Nebraska,  sold  their  ponies,  bought  a  light  spring 
wagon  and  a  pair  of  work  horses.  They  placed 
their  gold  pieces  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  threw 
their  bedding  and  clothes  over  it,  and  in  this  dis- 
guise traveled  through  Kansas  and  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory to  Dent  on  County,  Texas.  During  their  trip 
through  the  Territory  Bass  afterward  said  he 
camped  within  one  hundred  yards  of  a  detachment 
of  cavalry.  After  supper  he  and  Davis  visited  the 
soldiers'  camp  and  chatted  with  them  until  bed- 
time. The  soldiers  said  they  were  on  the  lookout 
for  some  train  robbers  that  had  held  up  the  Union 
Pacific  in  Nebraska,  never  dreaming  for  a  moment 
that  they  were  conversing  with  two  of  them.  The 
men  also  mentioned  that  two  of  the  robbers  had 
been  reported  killed  in  Kansas. 

This  rumor  put  Bass  and  Davis  on  their  guard, 
and  on  reaching  Denton  County  they  hid  in  the  elm 
bottoms  until  Bass  could  interview  some  of  his 
friends.  Upon  meeting  them  he  learned  that  the 
names  and  descriptions  of  every  one  of  the  Union 
Pacific  train  robbers  were  in  the  possession  of  the 
law  officers;  that  Collins,  Heffridge,  and  Berry  had 
been  killed;  and  that  every  sheriff  in  North  Texas 

163 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

was  on  the  watch  for  Davis  and  himself.  Davis  at 
once  begged  Bass  to  go  with  him  to  South  America, 
but  Bass  refused,  so  Davis  bade  Sam  goodbye  and 
set  out  alone.  He  was  never  captured.  On  his 
deathbed  Bass  declared  he  had  once  received  a 
letter  from  Jack  Davis  written  from  New  Orleans, 
asking  Bass  to  come  there  and  go  into  the  business 
of  buying  hides. 

Bass  had  left  Denton  County  early  in  the  spring 
an  honest,  sincere  and  clean  young  man.  By  fall- 
ing with  evil  associates  he  had  become  within  a  few 
months  one  of  the  most  daring  outlaws  and  train 
robbers  of  his  time.  Before  he  had  committed  any 
crime  in  the  state  the  officers  of  North  Texas  made 
repeated  efforts  to  capture  him  for  the  big  reward 
offered  by  the  Union  Pacific  and  the  express  com- 
pany but,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  country  around 
Denton  and  the  friends  Bass  had  as  long  as  his  gold 
lasted,  met  with  no  success. 

Bass'  money  soon  attracted  several  desperate  and 
daring  men  to  him.  Henry  Underwood,  Arkansas 
Johnson,  Jim  Murphy,  Frank  Jackson,  Pipes  Hern- 
don,  and  Collins, — the  last  one  a  cousin  of  Joel 
Collins — and  two  or  three  others  joined  him  in  the 
elm  bottoms.  Naturally  Bass  was  selected  as  leader 
of  the  gang.  It  was  not  long  before  the  outlaw 
chief  planned  and  executed  his  first  train  robbery 

164 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

in  Texas:  that  at  Eagle  Ford,  a  small  station  on 
the  T.  P.  Railroad,  a  few  miles  out  of  Dallas.  In 
quick  succession  the  bandits  held  up  two  or  three 
other  trains,  the  last,  I  believe,  being  at  Mesquite 
Station,  ten  or  twelve  miles  east  of  Dallas.  From 
this  robbery  they  secured  about  $3000.  They  met 
with  opposition  here,  for  the  conductor,  though 
armed  with  only  a  small  pistol,  fought  the  robbers 
to  a  fare-you-well  and  slightly  wounded  one  of 
them. 

The  whole  state  was  now  aroused  by  the  repeated 
train  hold-ups.  General  Jones  hurried  to  Dallas 
and  Denton  to  look  over  the  situation  and,  strange 
to  say,  he  arranged  to  organize  a  company  of 
rangers  at  Dallas.  Captain  June  Peak,  a  very  able 
officer,  was  given  the  command.  No  matter  how 
brave  a  company  of  recruits,  it  takes  time  and  train- 
ing to  get  results  from  them,  and  when  this  raw 
company  was  thrown  into  the  field  against  Bass 
and  his  gang  the  bandit  leader  played  with  it  as  a 
child  plays  with  toys.  Counting  the  thirty  rangers 
and  the  different  sheriffs'  parties,  there  were  prob- 
ably one  hundred  men  in  pursuit  of  the  Bass  gang. 
Sam  played  hide-and-seek  with  them  all  and,  it  is 
said,  never  ranged  any  farther  west  than  Stephens 
County  or  farther  north  than  Wise.  He  was  gen- 
erally in  Dallas,  Denton  or  Tarrant  Counties.  He 

165 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

would  frequently  visit  Fort  Worth  or  Dallas  at 
night,  ride  up  with  his  men  to  some  outside  saloon, 
get  drinks  all  around  and  then  vamoose. 

Finally  in  a  fight  at  Salt  Creek,  Wise  County, 
Captain  June  Peak  and  his  rangers  killed  Arkansas 
Johnson,  Bass'  most  trusted  lieutenant.  Either  just 
before  or  soon  after  this  battle  the  rangers  captured 
Pipes  Herndon  and  Jim  Murphy  and  drove  Bass 
and  his  two  remaining  companions  out  of  North 
Texas.  At  that  time  the  state  had  on  the  frontier 
of  Texas  six  companies  of  veteran  rangers.  They 
were  finely  mounted,  highly  equipped,  and  were 
the  best  mounted  police  in  the  world.  Any  com- 
pany on  the  line  could  have  been  marched  to  Den- 
ton  in  ten  days,  yet  they  were  never  moved  one  mile 
in  that  direction.  Any  one  of  those  highly  trained 
commands  could  have  broken  up  the  Sam  Bass 
gang  in  half  the  time  it  took  a  command  of  new 
men. 

After  the  fight  on  Salt  Creek  only  Sam  Bass,  Sebe 
Barnes,  and  Frank  Jackson  were  left  of  the  once 
formidable  gang.  These  men  had  gained  nothing 
from  their  four  train  robberies  in  North  Texas,  and 
were  so  hard  pressed  by  the  officers  of  the  law  on 
all  sides  that  Bass  reluctantly  decided  to  leave  the 
country  and  try  to  make  his  way  to  Old  Mexico. 
Through  some  pretended  friends  of  Bass,  General 

166 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

Jones  learned  of  the  contemplated  move.  He,  with 
Captain  Peak  and  other  officers,  approached  Jim 
Murphy,  one  of  Bass'  gang  captured  about  the  time 
of  the  Salt  Greek  fight,  who  was  awaiting  trial  by 
the  Federal  authorities  for  train  robbery,  and  prom- 
ised they  would  secure  his  release  if  he  would  be- 
tray Bass.  Murphy  hesitated  and  said  his  former 
chief  had  been  kind  to  his  family,  had  given  them 
money  and  provisions,  and  that  it  would  be  un- 
grateful to  betray  his  friend.  The  general  declared 
he  understood  Murphy's  position  fully,  but  Bass 
was  an  outlaw,  a  pest  to  the  country,  who  was  pre- 
paring to  leave  the  state  and  so  could  no  longer 
help  him.  General  Jones  warned  Murphy  that  the 
evidence  against  him  was  overwhelming  and  was 
certain  to  send  him  to  the  Federal  prison — probably 
for  life — and  exhorted  him  to  remember  his  wife 
and  his  children.  Murphy  finally  yielded  and  agreed 
to  betray  Bass  and  his  gang  at  the  first  opportunity. 
According  to  the  plan  agreed  upon  Murphy  was 
to  give  bond  and  when  the  Federal  court  convened 
at  Tyler,  Texas,  a  few  weeks  later  he  was  not  to 
show  up.  It  would  then  be  published  all  over  the 
country  that  Murphy  had  skipped  bond  and  re- 
joined Bass.  This  was  carried  out  to  the  letter. 
Murphy  joined  Bass  in  the  elm  bottoms  of  Den  ton 
County  and  agreed  to  rob  a  train  or  bank  and  get 

167 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

out  of  the  country.  Some  of  Bass'  friends,  sus- 
picious of  Murphy's  bondsmen,  wrote  Sam  that 
Murphy  was  playing  a  double  game  and  advised  him 
to  kill  the  traitor  at  once.  Bass  immediately  con- 
fronted Murphy  with  these  reports  and  reminded 
him  how  freely  he  had  handed  out  his  gold  to 
Murphy's  family.  Bass  declared  he  had  never  ad- 
vised or  solicited  Jim  to  join  him,  and  said  it  was 
a  low  down,  mean  and  ungrateful  trick  to  betray 
him.  He  told  Murphy  plainly  if  he  had  anything 
to  say  to  say  it  quickly.  Barnes  agreed  with  his 
chief  and  urged  Murphy's  death. 

The  plotter  denied  any  intention  of  betraying 
Bass  and  offered  to  take  the  lead  in  any  robbery 
Bass  should  plan  and  be  the  first  to  enter  the  ex- 
press car  or  climb  over  the  bank  railing.  Bass 
was  mad  and  so  was  Barnes.  They  elected  to  kill 
the  liar  at  once.  Frank  Jackson  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  conversation,  but  he  now  declared  he  had 
known  Murphy  since  he  was  a  little  boy,  and  he 
was  sure  Murphy  was  sincere  and  meant  to  stand 
by  them  through  thick  and  thin.  Bass  was  not 
satisfied,  and  insisted  that  Murphy  be  murdered 
then  and  there.  Jackson  finally  told  Bass  and 
Barnes  that  they  could  not  kill  Murphy  without 
first  killing  him.  Although  the  youngest  of  the 
party — Frank  was  only  twenty-two  years  old — Jack- 

168 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

son  had  great  influence  over  his  chief.  He  was 
brave  and  daring,  and  Bass  at  that  time  could  not 
very  well  get  along  without  him,  so  his  counsel 
prevailed  and  Murphy  was  spared.  The  bandits 
then  determined  to  quit  the  country.  Their  plan 
was  to  rob  a  small  bank  somewhere  en  route  to 
Old  Mexico  and  thus  secure  the  funds  needed  to 
facilitate  their  escape,  for  they  were  all  broke. 

Bass,  Sebe  Barnes,  Frank  Jackson,  and  Jim  Mur- 
phy left  Denton  County  early  in  July,  1878.  With 
his  usual  boldness,  Bass,  after  he  had  passed  Dallas 
County,  made  no  attempt  at  concealment,  but  trav- 
eled the  public  highway  in  broad  daylight.  Bass 
and  Barnes  were  still  suspicious  of  Murphy,  and 
never  let  him  out  of  their  sight,  though  they  refused 
to  talk  to  or  to  associate  with  him  in  any  way. 
When  Bass  reached  Waco  the  party  camped  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  remained  there  two 
or  three  days.  They  visited  the  town  each  day, 
looked  over  the  situation,  and  in  one  bank  saw 
much  gold  and  currency.  Jackson  was  enthusiastic 
and  wanted  to  rob  it  at  once.  Bass,  being  more 
careful  and  experienced,  thought  it  too  hazardous 
an  undertaking,  for  the  run  through  crowded  streets 
to  the  outskirts  of  the  city  was  too  far;  and  so  vetoed 
the  attempt. 

While  in  Waco  the  gang  stepped  into  a  saloon 
169 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

to  get  a  drink.  Bass  laid  a  $20  gold  piece  on  the 
bar  and  remarked,  "There  goes  the  last  twenty  of 
the  Union  Pacific  money  and  d — n  little  good  it 
has  done  me."  On  leaving  Waco  the  robbers  stole 
a  fine  mare  from  a  farmer  named  Billy  Mounds 
and  traveled  the  main  road  to  Belton.  They  were 
now  out  of  money  and  planned  to  rob  the  bank  at 
Round  Rock,  Williamson  County. 

General  Jones  was  now  getting  anxious  over  the 
gang.  Not  a  word  had  been  heard  from  Jim  Mur- 
phy since  he  had  rejoined  the  band,  for  he  had 
been  so  closely  watched  that  he  had  had  no  oppor- 
tunity to  communicate  with  the  authorities,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  he  would  be  forced  to  participate  in 
the  next  robbery  in  spite  of  himself. 

At  Belton  Sam  sold  an  extra  pony  his  party  had 
after  stealing  the  mare  at  Waco.  The  purchaser 
demanded  a  bill  of  sale  as  the  vendors  were 
strangers  in  the  country.  While  Bass  and  Barnes 
were  in  a  store  writing  out  the  required  document, 
Murphy  seized  the  opportunity  to  dash  off  a  short 
note  to  General  Jones,  saying,  "We  are  on  our  way 
to  Round  Rock  to  rob  the  bank.  For  God's  sake 
be  there  to  prevent  it."  As  the  postoffice  adjoined 
the  store  the  traitor  succeeded  in  mailing  his  letter 
of  betrayal  just  one  minute  before  Bass  came  out 
on  the  street  again.  The  gang  continued  their  way 

170 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG. 

to  Round  Rock  and  camped  near  the  old  town, 
which  is  situated  about  one  mile  north  of  New 
Round  Rock.  The  bandits  concluded  to  rest  and 
feed  their  horses  for  three  or  four  days  before  at- 
tempting their  robbery.  This  delay  was  providen- 
tial, for  it  gave  General  Jones  time  to  assemble  his 
rangers  to  repel  the  attack. 

After  Major  Jones  was  made  Adjutant-General 
of  Texas  he  caused  a  small  detachment  of  four  or 
five  rangers  to  camp  on  the  Capitol  grounds  at 
Austin.  He  drew  his  units  from  different  com- 
panies along  the  line.  Each  unit  would  be  detailed 
to  camp  in  Austin,  and  about  every  six  weeks  or 
two  months  the  detail  would  be  relieved  by  a  squad 
from  another  company.  It  will  readily  be  seen 
that  this  was  a  wise  policy,  as  the  detail  was  al- 
ways on  hand  and  could  be  sent  in  any  direction 
by  rail  or  on  horseback  at  short  notice.  Besides, 
General  Jones  was  devoted  to  his  rangers  and  liked 
to  have  them  around  where  he  could  see  them  daily. 
At  the  time  of  which  I  write  four  men  from  Com- 
pany "E" — Corporal  Vernon  Wilson  and  Privates 
Dick  Ware,  Chris  Connor,  and  Geo.  Harold — were 
camped  at  Austin.  The  corporal  helped  General 
Jones  as  a  clerk  in  his  office,  but  was  in  charge  of 
the  squad  on  the  Capitol  grounds,  slept  in  camp 
and  had  his  meals  with  them. 

171 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

When  General  Jones  received  Murphy's  letter  he 
was  astonished  at  Bass'  audacity  in  approaching 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  of  the  state  capital, 
the  very  headquarters  of  the  Frontier  Battalion, 
to  rob  a  bank.  The  letter  was  written  at  Belton, 
Texas,  and  received  at  the  Adjutant-General's  office 
on  the  last  mail  in  the  afternoon.  The  company  of 
rangers  nearest  Round  Rock  was  Lieutenant 
Reynolds'  Company  "E,"  stationed  at  San  Saba, 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  miles  distant.  There  was 
no  telegraph  to  San  Saba  then.  General  Jones  re- 
flected a  few  moments  after  receipt  of  the  letter 
and  then  arranged  his  plan  rapidly. 

He  turned  to  Corporal  Wilson  and  told  him  that 
Sam  Bass  and  his  gang  were,  or  soon  would  be,  at 
Round  Rock,  Texas,  to  rob  the  bank  there. 

"I  want  you  to  leave  at  once  to  carry  an  order 
to  Lieutenant  Reynolds.  It  is  sixty-five  miles  to 
Lampasas  and  you  can  make  that  place  early 
enough  in  the  morning  to  catch  the  Lampasas  and 
San  Saba  stage,,  You  must  make  that  stage  at 
all  hazards,  save  neither  yourself  nor  your  horse, 
but  get  these  orders  to  Lieutenant  Reynolds  as 
quickly  as  possible,"  he  ordered. 

Corporal  Wilson  hurried  to  the  livery  stable,  sad- 
dled his  horse  and  got  away  from  Austin  on  his 
wild  ride  just  at  nightfall.  His  horse  was  fresh  and 

172 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

fat  and  in  no  condition  to  make  such  a  run.  How- 
ever, Wilson  reached  Lampasas  at  daylight  next 
morning  and  made  the  outgoing  stage  to  San  Saba, 
but  killed  his  gallant  little  gray  horse  in  the  doing 
of  it.  From  Lampasas  to  San  Saba  was  fifty  miles, 
and  it  took  the  stage  all  day  to  make  the  trip.  As 
soon  as  he  landed  in  town  Corporal  Wilson  hired 
a  horse  and  galloped  three  miles  down  to  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds'  camp  and  delivered  his  orders. 

After  dispatching  Corporal  Wilson  to  Lieutenant 
Reynolds,  General  Jones  hurried  over  to  the  ranger 
camp  on  the  Capitol  grounds  and  ordered  the  three 
rangers,  Ware,  Connor,  and  Harold,  to  proceed  to 
Round  Rock,  put  their  horses  in  Highsmith's  livery 
stable  and  keep  themselves  concealed  until  he  could 
reach  them  himself  by  train  next  morning.  The 
following  morning  General  Jones  went  to  Round 
Rock.  He  carried  with  him  from  Austin,  Morris 
Moore,  an  ex-ranger  but  then  deputy  sheriff  of 
Travis  County.  On  reaching  his  destination  the 
general  called  on  Deputy  Sheriff  Grimes  of  Wil- 
liamson County,  who  was  stationed  at  Round  Rock, 
told  him  Bass  was  expected  in  town  to  rob  the 
bank,  and  that  a  scout  of  rangers  would  be  in  town 
as  soon  as  possible.  Jones  advised  Deputy  Grimes 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  strangers  but  on  no 


173 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

account  to  attempt  an  arrest  until  the  rangers  could 
arrive. 

I  well  remember  the  hot  July  evening  when  Cor- 
poral Wilson  arrived  in  our  camp  with  his  orders. 
The  company  had  just  had  supper,  the  horses  fed 
and  tied  up  for  the  night.  We  knew  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  corporal  meant  something  of 
unusual  importance.  Soon  Sergeant  Nevill  came 
hurrying  to  us  with  orders  to  detail  a  party  for  an 
immediate  scout.  Lieutenant  Reynolds'  orders  had 
heen  brief  but  to  the  point:  "Bass  is  at  Round 
Rock.  We  must  be  there  as  early  as  possible  to- 
morrow. Make  a  detail  of  eight  men  and  select 
those  that  have  the  horses  best  able  to  make  a  fast 
run.  And  you,  with  them,  report  to  me  here  at 
my  tent  ready  to  ride  in  thirty  minutes." 

First  Sergeant  C.  L.  Nevill,  Second  Sergeant  Henry 
McGee,  Second  Corporal  J.  B.  Gillett,  Privates  Abe 
Anglin,  Dave  Ligon,  Bill  Derrick,  and  John  R.  and 
W.  L.  Banister  were  selected  for  the  detail.  Lieu- 
tenant Reynolds  ordered  two  of  our  best  little  pack 
mules  hitched  to  a  light  spring  hack,  for  he  had 
been  sick  and  was  not  in  condition  to  make  the 
journey  horseback.  In  thirty  minutes  from  the 
time  Corporal  Wilson  reached  camp  we  were 
mounted,  armed  and  ready  to  go.  Lieutenant 
Reynolds  took  his  seat  in  the  hack,  threw  some 

174 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

blankets  in,  and  Corporal  Wilson,  who  had  not  had 
a  minute's  sleep  for  over  thirty-six  hours,  lay  down 
to  get  a  little  rest  as  we  moved  along.  Say,  boys, 
did  you  ever  try  to  follow  on  horseback  two  fast 
traveling  little  mules  hitched  to  an  open-topped 
spring  hack  for  one  hundred  miles?  Well,  it  is 
some  stunt.  We  left  our  camp  on  the  San  Saba 
River  just  at  sunset  and  traveled  in  a  fast  trot  and 
sometimes  in  a  lope  the  entire  night. 

Our  old  friend  and  comrade,  Jack  Martin,  then 
in  the  mercantile  business  at  the  little  town  of 
Senterfitt,  heard  us  pass  by  in  the  night,  and  next 
morning  said  to  some  of  his  customers  that  hell 
was  to  pay  somewhere  as  the  rangers  had  passed 
his  store  during  the  night  on  a  dead  run. 

The  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  shone  on  us  at 
the  crossing  of  North  Gabriel,  fifteen  miles  south 
of  Lampasas.  We  had  ridden  sixty-five  miles  that 
short  summer  night — we  had  forty-five  miles  yet 
to  go  before  reaching  Round  Rock.  We  halted  on 
the  Gabriel  for  breakfast  of  bread,  broiled  bacon 
and  black  coffee.  The  horses  had  a  bundle  of  oats 
each.  Lieutenant  Reynolds  held  his  watch  on  us 
and  it  took  us  just  thirty  minutes  to  breakfast  and 
be  off  again.  We  were  now  facing  a  hot  July  sun 
and  our  horses  were  beginning  to  show  the  effects 
of  the  hard  ride  of  the  night  before  and  slowed 

175 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

down  perceptibly.  We  never  halted  again  until  we 
reached  the  vicinity  of  old  Round  Rock  between 
1  and  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  July  19, 
1878.  The  lieutenant  camped  us  on  the  banks  of 
Rrushy  Greek  and  drove  into  New  Round  Rock  to 
report  his  arrival  to  General  Jones. 

Bass  had  decided  to  rob  the  bank  at  Round  Rock 
on  Saturday,  the  20th.  After  his  gang  had  eaten 
dinner  in  camp  Friday  evening  they  saddled  their 
ponies  and  started  over  to  town  to  take  a  last  look 
at  the  bank  and  select  a  route  to  follow  in  leaving 
the  place  after  the  robbery.  As  they  left  camp  Jim 
Murphy,  knowing  that  the  bandits  might  be  set 
upon  at  any  time,  suggested  that  he  stop  at  May's 
store  in  Old  Round  Rock  and  get  a  bushel  of  corn, 
as  they  were  out  of  feed  for  their  horses.  Bass, 
Barnes  and  Jackson  rode  on  into  town,  hitched 
their  horses  in  an  alley  just  back  of  the  bank, 
passed  that  building  and  made  a  mental  note  of 
its  situation.  They  then  went  up  the  main  street 
of  the  town  and  entered  Gopprel's  store  to  buy  some 
tobacco.  As  the  three  bandits  passed  into  the  store, 
Deputy  Sheriff  Moore,  who  was  standing  on  the 
sidewalk  with  Deputy  Sheriff  Grimes,  said  he 
thought  one  of  the  newcomers  had  a  pistol. 

"I  will  go  in  and  see,"  replied  Grimes. 


176 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

"I  believe  you  have  a  pistol,"  remarked  Grimes, 
approaching  Bass  and  trying  to  search  him. 

"Yes,  of  course  I  have  a  pistol,"  said  Bass.  At 
the  words  the  robbers  pulled  their  guns  and  killed 
Grimes  as  he  backed  away  to  the  door.  He  fell 
dead  on  the  sidewalk.  They  then  turned  on  Moore 
and  shot  him  through  the  lungs  as  he  attempted 
to  draw  his  weapon. 

At  the  crack  of  the  first  pistol  shot  Dick  Ware, 
who  was  seated  in  a  barber  shop  only  a  few  steps 
away  waiting  his  turn  for  a  shave,  rushed  into  the 
street  and  encountered  the  three  bandits  just  as 
they  were  leaving  the  store.  Seeing  Ware  rapidly 
advancing  on  them,  Bass  and  his  men  fired  on  the 
ranger  at  close  range,  one  of  their  bullets  striking 
a  hitching  post  within  six  inches  of  Ware's  head 
and  knocking  splinters  into  his  face.  This  assault 
never  halted  Ware  for  an  instant.  He  was  as  brave 
as  courage  itself  and  never  hesitated  to  take  the 
most  desperate  chances  when  the  occasion  de- 
manded it.  For  a  few  minutes  Dick  fought  the 
robbers  single  handed.  General  Jones,  coming  up 
town  from  the  telegraph  office,  ran  into  the  fight. 
He  was  armed  with  only  a  small  Colt's  double  action 
pistol,  but  threw  himself  into  the  fray.  Connor 
and  Harold  had  now  come  up  and  joined  in  the 
fusillade.  The  general,  seeing  the  robbers  on  foot 

177 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

and  almost  within  his  grasp,  drew  in  close  and 
urged  his  men  to  strain  every  nerve  to  capture  or 
exterminate  the  desperadoes.  By  this  time  every 
man  in  the  town  that  could  secure  a  gun  joined  in 
the  fight. 

The  bandits  had  now  reached  their  horses,  and 
realizing  their  situation  was  critical  fought  with 
the  energy  of  despair.  If  ever  a  train  robber  could 
be  called  a  hero  this  boy,  Frank  Jackson,  proved 
himself  one.  Barnes  was  shot  down  and  killed  at 
his  feet,  Bass  was  mortally  wounded  and  unable 
to  defend  himself  or  even  mount  his  horse  while 
the  bullets  continued  to  pour  in  from  every  quar- 
ter. With  heroic  courage,  Jackson  held  the  rangers 
back  with  his  pistol  in  his  right  hand  while  he  un- 
hitched Bass'  horse  with  his  left  and  assisted  him 
into  the  saddle.  Then,  mounting  his  own  horse, 
Jackson  and  his  chief  galloped  out  of  the  jaws  of 
hell  itself.  In  their  flight  they  passed  through  Old 
Round  Rock,  and  Jim  Murphy,  standing  in  the  door 
of  May's  store,  saw  Jackson  and  Bass  go  by  on  the 
dead  run.  The  betrayer  noticed  that  Jackson  was 
holding  Bass,  pale  and  bleeding,  in  the  saddle. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds,  entering  Round  Rock,  came 
within  five  minutes  of  meeting  Bass  and  Jackson 
in  the  road.  Before  he  reached  town  he  met  posses 
of  citizens  and  rangers  in  pursuit  of  the  robbers. 

178 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

When  the  fugitives  reached  the  cemetery  Jackson 
halted  long  enough  to  secure  a  Winchester  they 
had  hidden  in  the  grass  there,  then  left  the  road 
and  were  lost  for  a  time.  The  fight  was  now  over 
and  the  play  spoiled  by  two  over-zealous  deputies 
in  bringing  on  an  immature  fight  after  they  had 
been  warned  to  be  careful.  Naturally  Moore  and 
Grimes  should  have  known  that  the  three  strangers 
were  the  Sam  Bass  gang. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  started  Sergeant  Nevill  and 
his  rangers  early  next  morning  in  search  of  the 
flying  bandits.  After  traveling  in  the  direction  the 
robbers  were  last  seen  we  came  upon  a  man  lying 
under  a  large  oak  tree.  Seeing  we  were  armed  as 
we  advanced  upon  him  he  called  out  to  us  not  to 
shoot,  saying  he  was  Sam  Bass,  the  man  we  were 
hunting. 

After  entering  the  woods  the  evening  before,  Bass 
became  so  sick  and  faint  from  loss  of  blood  that 
he  could  go  no  farther.  Jackson  dismounted  and 
wanted  to  stay  with  his  chief,  declaring  he  was  a 
match  for  all  their  pursuers. 

"No,  Frank,"  replied  Bass.     "I  am  done  for." 

The  wounded  leader  told  his  companion  to  tie 
his  horse  near  at  hand  so  he  could  get  away  if  he 
felt  better  during  the  night.  Jackson  was  finally 


179 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

prevailed  upon  to  leave  Bass  and  make  his  own 
escape. 

When  daylight  came  Saturday  morning  Bass  got 
up  and  walked  to  a  nearby  house.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  place  a  lady,  seeing  him  coming  hold- 
ing his  pants  up  and  all  covered  with  blood,  left 
her  house  and  started  to  run  off,  as  she  was  alone 
with  a  small  servant  girl.  Bass  saw  she  was  fright- 
ened and  called  to  her  to  stop,  saying  he  was  per- 
ishing for  a  drink  of  water  and  would  return  to  a 
tree  not  far  away  and  lie  down  if  she  would  only 
send  him  a  drink.  The  lady  sent  him  a  quart  cup 
of  water,  but  the  poor  fellow  was  too  far  gone  to 
drink  it.  We  found  him  under  this  tree  one  hour 
later.  He  had  a  wound  through  the  center  of  his 
left  hand,  the  bullet  having  pierced  the  middle 
finger. 

Bass'  death  wound  was  given  him  by  Dick  Ware, 
who  used  a  .45  caliber  Colt's  long  barreled  six- 
shooter.  The  ball  from  Ware's  pistol  struck  Bass' 
belt  and  cut  two  cartridges  in  pieces  and  entered 
his  back  just  above  the  right  hip  bone.  The  bullet 
badly  mushroomed  and  made  a  fearful  wound  that 
tore  the  victim's  right  kidney  all  to  pieces.  From 
the  moment  he  was  shot  until  his  death  three  days 
later  Bass  suffered  untold  agonies.  As  he  lay  on 
the  ground  Friday  night  where  Jackson  had  left  him 

180 


SAM  BASS  AND  HIS  TRAIN  ROBBER  GANG 

the  wounded  man  tore  his  undershirt  into  more 
than  one  hundred  pieces  and  wiped  the  blood  from 
his  body. 

Bass  was  taken  to  Round  Rock  and  given  the 
best  of  medical  attention,  but  died  the  following 
day,  Sunday,  July  21,  1878.  While  he  was  yet  able 
to  talk,  General  Jones  appealed  to  Bass  to  reveal 
to  the  state  authorities  the  names  of  the  confed- 
erates he  had  had  that  they  might  be  apprehended. 

"Sam,  you  have  done  much  evil  in  this  world 
and  have  only  a  few  hours  to  live.  Now,  while 
you  have  a  chance  to  do  the  state  some  good,  please 
tell  me  who  your  associates  were  in  those  viola- 
tions of  the  laws  of  your  country." 

Sam  replied  that  he  could  not  betray  his  friends 
and  that  he  might  as  well  die  with  what  he  knew 
in  him. 

Sam  Bass  was  buried  in  the  cemetery  at  Old 
Round  Rock.  A  small  monument  was  erected  over 
his  grave  by  a  sister.  Its  simple  inscription  reads: 

SAMUEL  BASS 
Born  July  21st,  1851 
Died  July  21st,  1878 

A  brave  man  reposes  in  death  here.    Why  was  he 
not  true? 

Frank  Jackson  made  his  way  back  into  Denton 
County  and  hung  around  some  time  hoping  to  get 

181 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

an  opportunity  to  murder  the  betrayer  of  his  chief, 
an  ingrate  whose  cause  he  himself  had  so  ably 
championed.  Jackson  declared  if  he  could  meet 
Jim  Murphy  he  would  kill  him,  cut  off  his  head 
and  carry  it  away  in  a  gunny  sack. 

Murphy  returned  to  Denton,  but  learned  that 
Jackson  was  hiding  in  the  elm  bottoms  awaiting 
a  chance  to  slay  him.  He  thereupon  asked  per- 
mission of  the  sheriff  to  remain  about  the  jail  for 
protection.  While  skulking  about  the  prison  one 
of  his  eyes  became  infected.  A  physician  gave  him 
some  medicine  to  drop  into  the  diseased  eye,  at 
the  same  time  cautioning  him  to  be  careful  as  the 
fluid  was  a  deadly  poison.  Murphy  drank  the  en- 
tire contents  of  the  bottle  and  was  dead  in  a  few 
hours.  Remorse,  no  doubt,  caused  him  to  end  his 
life. 

Of  the  four  men  that  fought  the  Round  Rock 
battle  with  Sam  Bass  and  his  gang  all  are  dead: 
General  J.  B.  Jones,  and  Rangers  R.  G.  Ware,  Chris 
Connor,  and  George  Harold.  Of  the  ten  men  that 
made  the  long  ride  from  San  Saba  to  Round  Rock 
only  two  are  now  alive — Lieutenant  N.  0.  Reynolds 
and  myself. 


182 


CHAPTER  X 
A  WINTER  OF  QUIET  AND  A  TRANSFER 

In  the  fall  of  1878  a  man  named  Dowdy  moved 
from  South  Texas  and  settled  on  the  headwaters 
of  the  Johnson  Fork  of  the  Guadalupe  River  in 
Kerr  County.  His  family  consisted  of  himself, 
wife,  three  grown  daughters,  a  grown  son,  and  a 
young  son  twelve  or  fourteen  years  old.  Mr. 
Dowdy  owned  two  or  three  thousand  sheep  and 
was  grazing  them  on  some  fine  upland  pasture  just 
above  his  home.  He  contracted  for  his  winter  sup- 
ply of  corn,  and  when  the  first  load  of  grain  ar- 
rived at  the  ranch  the  three  girls  walked  out  half 
a  mile  to  where  the  sheep  were  grazing  to  stay 
with  their  younger  brother  while  the  elder  returned 
to  the  ranch  to  measure  and  receive  the  corn.  When 
young  Mr.  Dowdy  returned  to  the  sheep  an  hour 
later  he  was  horrified  to  find  that  his  three  sisters 
and  his  little  brother  had  been  massacred  by  a 
band  of  roving  Indians.  From  the  signs  on  a  high 
bluff  nearby  the  sheep  and  their  herders  had  been 
under  observation  by  the  redskins  for  some  time 
and,  seeing  the  only  man  leave,  the  Indians  de- 
scended upon  the  defenseless  girls  and  boy  and 
killed  them.  As  there  was  no  ranger  company 

183 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

within  one  hundred  miles  of  Kerr  County  at  the 
time,  a  party  of  frontiersmen  quickly  gathered  and 
followed  the  murderers,  but  after  pursuing  them 
for  nearly  two  hundred  miles  the  posse  lost  the 
trail  in  the  rough  Devil's  River  country. 

Kerr  County  then  called  for  rangers,  and  Gen- 
eral Jones  ordered  Lieutenant  Reynolds  to  proceed 
to  that  county  and  go  into  camp  for  the  winter  at 
the  Dowdy  ranch.  This  descent  upon  the  Dowdy 
family  was  the  last  raid  ever  made  by  Indians  in 
Kerr  County,  and  was  perhaps  the  most  heart- 
hending.  We  herded  our  horses  that  winter  on 
the  very  ground  where  the  unfortunate  young 
Misses  Dowdy  and  their  brother  were  killed.  At 
the  time  they  were  murdered  the  ground  was  soft 
and  muddy  from  a  recent  rain,  so  one  could  see 
for  months  af terward  where  the  poor  girls  had  run 
on  foot  while  the  Indians  charged  on  horseback. 
I  remember  one  of  the  young  ladies  ran  nearly  four 
hundred  yards  before  she  was  overtaken  and  shot 
full  of  arrows  by  a  heartless  redskin.  These  mur- 
derers were  probably  Kickapoos  and  Lipans  that 
lived  in  the  Santa  Rosa  Mountains,  Old  Mexico,  and 
frequently  raided  Southwest  Texas,  stole  hundreds 
of  horses  and  killed  many  people.  While  guarding 
their  horses  on  the  ground  where  the  Dowdy  family 
was  killed  the  ranger  boys  built  a  rock  monument 

184 


A  WINTER  OF  QUIET  AND  A  TRANSFER 

eight  or  ten  feet  high  to  mark  the  spot  where  the 
victims  fell. 

Lieutenant  Reynolds  kept  scouting  parties  in  the 
field  at  intervals  throughout  the  winter  but,  like 
lightning,  Indians  never  strike  twice  in  the  same 
place.  The  winter  of  1878-79  was  the  quietest  one 
I  ever  spent  as  a  ranger.  Kerr  County  was  pretty 
well  cleaned  of  outlaws  and  we  made  fewer  arrests 
that  season  than  ever  before. 

The  rangers  encountered  but  one  real  bad  man 
in  Kerr  County.  His  name  was  Eli  Wixon,  and 
he  was  wanted  for  murder  in  East  Texas.  It  was 
known  that  Wixon  would  be  at  the  polls  of  the 
county  precincts  to  vote  on  election  day,  November, 
1878,  so  Lieutenant  Reynolds  sent  Corporal  Warren 
and  Privates  Will  Banister  and  Abe  Anglin  to  ar- 
rest Wixon.  Corporal  Warren  found  his  man  at 
the  polls  and  lost  no  time  in  telling  Wixon  what 
he  was  there  for,  and  ordered  him  to  unbuckle  his 
belt  and  drop  his  pistol.  Wixon  hesitated  and 
finally  called  on  his  friends  to  protect  him  from 
the  rangers. 

The  crowd  came  to  his  relief,  and  for  a  time  it 
looked  as  if  there  would  be  trouble.  Wixon  abused 
the  rangers,  called  them  a  set  of  dirty  dogs,  and 
dared  them  to  shoot  him.  Corporal  Warren  was 
brave  and  resolute.  He  told  Wixon  his  abuse  did 

185 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

not  amount  to  anything;  that  the  rangers  were  there 
to  arrest  him  and  were  going  to  do  it.  The  cor- 
poral warned  the  citizens  to  be  careful  how  they 
broke  the  law  and  if  they  started  anything  he  de- 
clared Wixon  would  be  the  first  man  killed. 

Then,  while  Banister  and  Anglin  held  the  crowd 
back  with  their  drawn  Winchesters,  Warren  dis- 
armed Wixon,  grasped  his  bridle  reins  and  led  him 
away  without  further  trouble.  Lieutenant  Rey- 
nolds took  no  chances  with  that  sort  of  man,  and 
as  soon  as  Wixon  was  in  camp  he  was  promptly 
handcuffed  and  shackled.  This  usually  took  the 
slack  out  of  all  so-called  bad  men  and  it  worked 
like  a  charm  with  our  new  prisoner. 

As  the  winter  wore  on  Lieutenant  Reynolds,  with 
but  little  to  do,  became  restless.  He  once  said  of 
himself  that  he  never  had  the  patience  to  sit  down 
in  camp  and  wait  for  a  band  of  Indians  to  raid  the 
county  so  he  might  get  a  race.  Action  was  what 
he  wanted  all  the  time,  and  he  chaffed  like  a  chained 
bear  when  compelled  to  sit  idly  in  camp. 

When  the  Legislature  met  early  in  1879  it  was 
known  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  get  an  appro- 
priation for  frontier  defense.  From  time  imme- 
morial there  has  been  an  element  from  East  Texas 
in  the  Legislature  that  has  fought  the  ranger  ap- 
propriation, and  in  this  instance  that  element  fought 

186 


A  WINTER  OF  QUIET  AND  A  TRANSFER 

the  ranger  bill  harder  than  ever.  The  fund  appro- 
priated for  frontier  defense  two  years  before  was 
now  running  short  and  in  order  to  make  it  hold 
out  until  it  could  be  ascertained  what  the  Legis- 
lature would  do  it  became  necessary  for  General 
Jones  to  order  the  various  captains  to  discharge 
three  men  out  of  each  company.  In  a  wreek  a  sim- 
ilar order  was  promulgated,  and  this  was  kept  up 
until  the  battalion  was  reduced  to  almost  one-half 
its  former  strength.  Lieutenant  Reynolds  was  com- 
pelled to  sit  idly  by  and  see  his  fine  experienced 
rangers  dwindle  away  before  his  eyes,  and  what  he 
said  about  those  short-sighted  lawmakers  would 
not  look  nice  in  print. 

In  March,  1879,  Captain  Pat  Dolan,  commander 
of  Company  "F,"  then  stationed  on  the  Nueces 
River,  seventy-five  miles  southwest  of  Reynolds' 
company,  wrote  to  Lieutenant  Reynolds  that  a  big 
band  of  horse  and  cattle  thieves  were  reported  oper- 
ating in  the  vicinity  of  the  head  of  Devil's  River 
and  along  the  Nueces.  He  wished  to  take  a  month's 
scout  out  in  that  country,  but  since  the  ranger 
companies  had  been  so  reduced  he  did  not  feel 
strong  enough  to  operate  against  them  alone  and 
leave  a  reserve  in  his  own  camp.  He,  therefore, 
asked  Lieutenant  Reynolds  to  send  a  detachment  to 
cooperate  with  him.  I  was  then  second  sergeant, 

187 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

and  with  five  men  I  was  ordered  to  report  to  Cap- 
tain Dolan  for  a  three  weeks'  scout  on  Devil's  River 
and  the  Pecos.  I  reported  to  the  commander  of 
Company  "F"  and  we  scouted  up  the  Nueces  River, 
then  turned  west  to  Beaver  Lake  on  the  head  of 
Devil's  River.  From  the  lake  we  went  over  on 
Johnson's  Run  and  covered  the  country  thoroughly 
but  without  finding  the  reported  outlaws. 

One  morning  after  starting  out  on  our  day's 
scout  Captain  Dolan  halted  the  command  and,  tak- 
ing with  him  Private  Robb,  went  in  search  of  water. 
A  heavy  fog  came  up  after  he  left  us  and  hung 
over  the  country  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  The 
captain  did  not  return  to  us,  and  Sergeant  G.  K. 
Chinn  ordered  his  men  to  fire  their  guns  to  give 
the  lost  ones  our  position.  We  remained  in  the 
vicinity  until  night  and  then  returned  to  Howard's 
Well,  a  watering  place  on  Johnson's  Run.  The  fol- 
lowing morning  we  scouted  out  to  the  point  from 
which  the  captain  had  left  us  the  day  before.  It 
was  now  clear,  the  sun  shining  brightly,  but  the 
lost  men  could  not  be  found.  Dolan  was  an  ex- 
perienced frontiersman,  and  we  concluded  that, 
after  finding  himself  lost  in  the  fog,  he  would  re- 
turn to  his  headquarters  on  the  Nueces,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  miles  away.  Sergeant  Chinn, 
therefore,  headed  the  command  for  this  camp,  and 

188 


A  WINTER  OF  QUIET  AND  A  TRANSFER 

when  we  reached  it  we  found  Captain  Dolan  and 
Private  Robb  had  preceded  us.  They  had  traveled 
through  a  bad  Indian  country  with  nothing  to  eat 
but  what  venison  they  had  killed. 

From  Dolan's  Company  I  marched  my  detail 
back  to  Company  "E"  by  easy  stages  and  reached 
our  camp  at  Dowdy's  ranch  the  last  week  in  March 
with  our  horses  ridden  down.  We  had  covered 
something  like  five  hundred  miles  without  accom- 
plishing anything. 

As  soon  as  I  arrived  I  walked  up  to  the  lieuten- 
ant's tent  to  make  my  report.  I  was  met  by  First 
Sergeant  C.  L.  Nevill,  who  told  me  that  Lieutenant 
Reynolds  had  resigned  and  left  the  company.  At 
first  I  thought  the  sergeant  was  only  joking,  but 
when  I  was  convinced  that  the  lieutenant  had  really 
gone  I  was  shocked  beyond  measure.  The  blow 
was  too  strong  and  sudden  for  me,  and  I  am  not 
ashamed  now  at  sixty-five  years  of  age  to  admit 
that  I  slipped  out  of  camp,  sat  down  on  the  bank 
of  the  Guadalupe  River  and  cried  like  a  baby.  It 
seemed  as  if  my  best  friend  on  earth  had  gone  for- 
ever. Reynolds  had  had  me  transferred  from  Cold- 
well's  company  to  his  own  when  I  was  just  a  strip- 
ling of  a  boy.  As  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to  be 
trusted  with  a  scout  of  men  and  the  vacancies  oc- 
curred I  was  made  second  corporal,  first  corporal 

189 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

and  then  second  sergeant.  I  was  given  the  best 
men  in  the  company  and  sent  against  the  most 
noted  outlaws  and  hardened  criminals  in  the  State 
of  Texas.  Lieutenant  Reynolds  gave  me  every 
chance  in  the  world  to  make  a  name  for  myself, 
and  now  he  was  gone.  I  felt  the  loss  keenly.  I 
feel  sure  the  records  now  on  file  in  Austin  will  bear 
me  out  when  I  say  Reynolds  was  the  greatest  cap- 
tain of  his  time, — and  perhaps  of  all  time.  The 
State  of  Texas  lost  a  matchless  officer  when  "Mage" 
Reynolds  retired  to  private  life.  After  leaving  the 
ranger  service  he  made  Lampasas  his  home  and 
served  that  county  as  its  sheriff  for  several  terms. 

The  Legislature  finally  made  a  small  appropri- 
ation for  frontier  defense.  Sergeant  Nevill  was 
ordered  to  report  at  Austin  with  Company  "E"  for 
the  reorganization  of  the  command.  Reynolds' 
resignation  practically  broke  up  the  company,  and 
though  Sergeant  Nevill  was  made  Lieutenant  of 
Company  "E"  and  afterward  raised  to  a  captaincy 
and  left  behind  him  an  enviable  record,  yet  he  was 
not  a  "Mage"  Reynolds  by  a  long  shot. 

On  reaching  Austin,  R.  C.  Ware  and  the  Banister 
boys  secured  their  transfers  to  Captain  Marshes' 
Company  "B,"  while  the  Carter  boys,  Ben  and  Dock, 
C.  R.  Connor,  and  Bill  Derrick  resigned  the  service 
and  retired  to  private  life.  Abe  Anglin  became  a 

190 


A  WINTER  OF  QUIET  AND  A  TRANSFER 

policeman  at  Austin,  Texas.  Henry  Maltimore  and 
myself,  at  our  requests,  were  transferred  to  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor's  Company  "C"  for  duty  in  El  Paso 
County.  With  my  transfer  to  this  command  the 
winter  of  inaction  was  over,  and  I  was  soon  to  see 
some  exciting  times  along  the  upper  Rio  Grande. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

At  the  foot  of  the  Guadalupe  Mountains,  one  hun- 
dred miles  east  of  El  Paso,  Texas,  are  situated  sev- 
eral large  salt  deposits  known  as  the  Salt  Lakes. 
These  deposits  were  on  public  state  land.  For  a 
hundred  years  or  more  the  residents  along  the  Rio 
Grande  in  El  Paso  County  and  in  northern  Mexico 
had  hauled  salt  from  the  lakes  free  of  charge,  for 
there  was  no  one  to  pay,  as  the  deposits  were  not 
claimed  by  any  owner.  All  one  had  to  do  was  to 
back  his  wagon  to  the  edge  of  the  lake  and  shovel 
it  full  of  salt  and  drive  off. 

From  San  Elizario  to  the  Salt  Lakes  was  just 
ninety  miles,  and  there  was  not  a  drop  of  water 
on  the  route.  The  road  that  had  been  traveled  so 
long  by  big  wagon  trains  was  almost  as  straight 
as  an  arrow  and  in  extra  fine  condition.  The  salt 
haulers  would  carry  water  in  barrels  to  what  was 
known  as  the  Half-way  Station,  about  forty-five 
miles  from  San  Elizario.  Here  they  would  rest  and 
water  their  horses  and  leave  half  their  water  for 
the  return  trip.  The  teamsters  would  then  push 
on  to  the  lakes,  load  their  wagons,  rest  the  teams 
a  day  or  two,  and  on  their  return  trip  stop  at  the 

192 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

Half-way  Station,  water  their  animals,  throw  the 
empty  barrels  on  top  of  the  salt  and,  without  again 
halting,  continue  to  San  Elizario  on  the  Rio  Grande. 
Charley  Howard,  after  his  election  as  judge  of 
the  El  Paso  District,  made  his  home  at  the  old  town 
of  Franklin,  now  known  as  El  Paso.     He  saw  the 
possibilities  of  these  salt  lakes  as  a  money-making 
proposition  and,  knowing  they  were  on  public  land, 
wrote    his    father-in-law,    George    Zimpleman,    at 
Austin,  to  buy  some  land  certificates  and  send  them 
to  him  so  he  could  locate  the  land  covering  the  salt 
deposits.     As  soon  as  the  land  was  located  Judge 
Howard  forbade  anyone  to  haul  salt  from  the  lakes 
without  first  securing  his  permission.     The  Mexi- 
cans along  both  sides  of  the  Rio  Grande  adjacent 
to  El  Paso  became  highly  indignant  at  this  order. 
A  sub-contractor  on  the  overland  mail  route  be- 
tween El  Paso  and  Fort  Davis  named  Luis  Cardis, 
supported  the  Mexicans  and  told  them  Howard  had 
no  right  to  stop  them  from  hauling  salt.     Cardis 
was  an  Italian  by  birth,  had  come  to  El  Paso  County 
in  1860,  married  a  Mexican  wife,  identified  himself 
with  the  county,  and  become  prominent  as  a  polit- 
ical leader.     He  was  a  Republican,  while  Judge 
Howard  wras  a  Democrat.    Cardis  and  Howard  soon 
became  bitter  enemies,  and  in  September,  1878,  this 
conflict  between  them  became  so  acute  that  Howard 

193 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

killed  his  opponent  with  a  double-barreled  shotgun 
in  S.  Shultz  and  Brothers'  store  in  Franklin.  This 
at  once  precipitated  the  contest  known  as  the  Salt 
Lake  War,  for  grave  threats  were  made  against 
Howard  by  the  Mexicans. 

After  killing  Cardis,  Judge  Howard  fled  to  New 
Mexico,  and  from  his  seclusion  in  that  state  he 
called  on  the  governor  of  Texas  to  send  rangers 
to  El  Paso  to  protect  him  and  the  courts  over  which 
he  presided.  At  that  time  not  a  company  of  the 
Frontier  Battalion  was  within  five  hundred  miles 
of  that  town.  El  Paso  was  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  by  stage  from  San  Antonio  or  Austin  and 
the  journey  required  about  seven  days  and  nights' 
travel  over  a  dangerous  route — an  unusually  hard 
trip  on  any  passenger  attempting  it. 

The  governor  of  Texas,  therefore,  sent  Major 
John  B.  Jones  from  Austin  to  Topeka,  Kansas,  by 
rail  and  thence  as  far  west  into  New  Mexico  as  the 
Santa  Fe  Railroad  ran  at  that  time,  and  thence  by 
stage  down  to  El  Paso.  Major  Jones  dropped  into 
the  old  town  of  Franklin  (now  El  Paso)  unheralded 
and  unknown.  He  sat  about  the  hotel  and  gained 
the  information  he  needed,  then  made  himself 
known  to  the  authorities  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
organize  and  equip  a  company  of  twenty  rangers. 
John  B.  Tays,  brother  to  the  Episcopal  minister  of 

194 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

that  district,  was  made  lieutenant  of  the  new  com- 
mand, which  was  known  as  a  detachment  of  Com- 
pany "C"  and  stationed  in  the  old  town  of  San 
Elizario,  twenty-five  miles  southeast  of  El  Paso. 

Soon  after  this  detachment  of  rangers  had  been 
authorized,  Judge  Howard  appeared  at  San  Elizario 
and  sought  protection  with  it.  No  sooner  had  it 
become  known  that  Judge  Howard  was  back  in 
Texas  than  the  ranger  company  was  surrounded 
by  a  cordon  of  armed  Mexicans,  two  or  three  hun- 
dred in  number,  who  demanded  the  body  of  the 
jurist.  Lieutenant  Tays  refused  to  surrender  How- 
ard, and  the  fighting  began,  and  was  kept  up  two 
or  three  days  at  intervals.  Sergeant  Maltimore,  in 
passing  through  the  court  yard  of  the  buildings  in 
which  the  rangers  were  quartered  was  shot  down 
and  killed  by  Mexican  snipers  located  on  top  of 
some  adobe  buildings  within  range  of  the  quarters. 
Then  an  American  citizen,  a  Mr.  Ellis,  was  killed 
near  Company  "G's"  camp. 

After  several  days  of  desultory  fighting,  the  lead- 
ers of  the  mob,  under  flag  of  truce,  sought  an  inter- 
view with  Lieutenant  Tays.  The  lieutenant  finally 
agreed  to  meet  two  of  the  leaders,  and  while  the 
parley  was  in  progress  armed  Mexicans  one  at  a 
time  approached  the  peace  party  until  forty  or  fifty 
had  quietly  surrounded  Lieutenant  Tays  and  put 

195 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

him  at  their  mercy.  The  mob  then  boldly  de- 
manded the  surrender  of  the  ranger  company, 
Judge  Howard,  and  two  other  Americans,  Adkin- 
son  and  McBride,  friends  of  the  judge,  that  had 
sought  protection  with  them. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Mexicans  intimidated 
Lieutenant  Tays  after  he  was  in  their  hands  and 
probably  threatened  him  with  death  unless  their 
demands  were  granted.  The  lieutenant  returned 
to  the  ranger  camp  with  the  mob  and  said,  "Boys, 
it  is  all  settled.  You  are  to  give  up  your  arms  and 
horses  and  you  will  be  allowed  to  go  free." 

The  rangers  were  furious  at  this  surrender,  but 
were  powerless  to  help  themselves,  for  the  mob  had 
swarmed  in  upon  them  from  all  sides.  Billie  Marsh, 
one  of  the  youngest  men  in  the  company,  was  so 
indignant  that  he  cried  out  to  his  commander,  "The 
only  difference  between  you  and  a  skunk  is  that 
the  skunk  has  a  white  streak  down  his  back!" 

Judge  Howard,  seeing  the  handwriting  on  the 
wall,  began  shaking  hands  and  bidding  his  ranger 
friends  goodbye.  As  soon  as  the  Mexicans  had 
gotten  possession  of  the  rangers'  arms  they  threw 
ropes  over  the  heads  of  Howard,  McBride  and  Ad- 
kinson.  Then,  mounting  fast  running  ponies,  they 
dragged  the  unfortunate  men  to  death  in  the  streets 
of  San  Elizario  and  cast  their  mutilated  bodies  into 

196 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

pososas  or  shallow  wells.  The  Mexicans  then  dis- 
appeared, most  of  them  crossing  the  Rio  Grande 
into  Mexico. 

Lieutenant  Tays  at  once  resigned  as  commander 
of  the  rangers,  and  Private  Charles  Ludwick  was 
made  first  sergeant  and  placed  in  charge  of  the  com- 
pany until  the  governor  of  Texas  could  send  a  com- 
missioned officer  to  take  command  of  it.  Had  Lieu- 
tenant Tays  held  out  twenty-four  hours  longer,  a 
thing  which  he  could  easily  have  done,  he  would 
have  escaped  the  disgrace  and  mortification  of  sur- 
rendering himself  and  his  company  to  a  mob  of 
Mexicans,  for  within  that  time  John  Ford  with  a 
band  of  New  Mexico  cowboys  swept  into  the  Rio 
Grande  valley  to  relieve  the  besieged  rangers.  On 
learning  of  the  fates  of  Howard,  McBride,  Adkin- 
son,  Ellis,  and  Sergeant  Maltimore,  the  rescue  party 
raided  up  and  down  the  valley  from  San  Elizario 
to  El  Paso  and  killed  several  armed  Mexicans  ac- 
cused of  being  part  of  the  mob  that  had  murdered 
the  Americans.  The  present  battalion  of  Texas 
Rangers  was  organized  May  1,  1874,  and  in  all  their 
forty-six  years  of  service  this  surrender  of  Lieu- 
tenant Tays  was  the  only  black  mark  ever  chalked 
up  against  it. 

Afterward,  when  I  arrived  in  El  Paso  with  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor  I  had  many  talks  with  Privates 

197 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

George  Lloyd,  Dr.  Shivers,  Bill  Rutherford,  and  San- 
tiago Cooper, — all  members  of  Tays'  company— 
and  most  of  them  believed  Lieutenant  Tays  had  a 
streak  of  yellow  in  him,  while  a  few  thought  he 
made  a  mistake  in  agreeing  to  an  interview  with 
the  mob,  thereby  allowing  himself  to  be  caught 
napping  and  forced  to  surrender. 

Conditions  in  El  Paso  County  were  now  so  bad 
that  Lieutenant  Baylor  was  ordered  into  the  coun- 
try to  take  command  of  the  ranger  company.  Be- 
fore leaving  to  assume  his  command,  Lieutenant 
Baylor  was  called  to  Austin  from  his  home  in  San 
Antonio  and  had  a  lengthy  interview  with  Governor 
Roberts.  Baylor  was  instructed  by  his  excellency 
to  use  all  diplomacy  possible  to  reconcile  the  two 
factions  and  settle  the  Salt  Lake  War  peaceably. 
The  governor  held  that  both  sides  to  the  contro- 
versy were  more  or  less  to  blame,  and  what  had 
been  done  could  not  be  undone,  and  the  restoration 
of  order  was  the  prime  requisite  rather  than  a  puni- 
tive expedition  against  the  mob  members. 

On  July  28,  1879,  Private  Henry  Maltimore  and 
myself  reached  San  Antonio  from  Austin  and  pre- 
sented our  credentials  to  Lieutenant  Baylor,  who 
thereupon  advised  us  that  he  had  selected  August 
2nd  as  the  day  to  begin  his  march  from  San  Antonio 
to  El  Paso  County.  In  his  camp  on  the  San  Antonio 

198 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

River  in  the  southern  part  of  the  city  the  lieutenant 
had  mustered  myself  as  sergeant,  and  Privates 
Henry  Maltimore,  Dick  Head,  Gus  Small,  Gus  Krim- 
kau,  and  George  Harold. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  August  2,  1879,  our  tiny 
detachment  left  San  Antonio  on  our  long  journey. 
One  wagon  carried  a  heavy,  old-fashioned  square 
piano,  and  on  top  of  this  was  loaded  the  lieutenant's 
household  goods.  At  the  rear  of  the  wagon  was  a 
coop  of  game  chickens,  four  hens  and  a  cock,  for 
Lieutenant  Baylor  was  fond  of  game  chickens  as 
a  table  delicacy,  though  he  never  fought  them.  His 
family  consisted  of  Mrs.  Baylor,  two  daughters- 
Helen,  aged  fourteen,  and  Mary,  a  child  of  four  or 
five  years — and  Miss  Kate  Sydnor,  sister  of  Mrs. 
Baylor.  The  children  and  ladies  traveled  in  a  large 
hack  drawn  by  a  pair  of  mules.  Rations  for  men 
and  horses  were  hauled  in  a  two-mule  wagon,  while 
the  rangers  rode  on  horseback  in  advance  of  the 
hack  and  wagons.  Two  men  traveling  to  New  Mex- 
ico in  a  two-wheeled  cart  asked  permission  to  travel 
with  us  for  protection.  Naturally  we  made  slow 
progress  with  this  unique  combination.  As  well 
as  I  can  remember,  1879  was  a  rather  dry  year,  for 
not  a  drop  of  rain  fell  upon  us  during  this  seven 
hundred-mile  journey.  When  we  passed  Fort 
Clark,  in  Kinney  County,  and  reached  Devil's  River 

199 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

we  were  on  the  real  frontier  and  liable  to  attack 
by  Indians  at  any  time.  It  was  necessary,  therefore, 
to  keep  a  strong  guard  posted  at  all  times. 

Around  our  camp  fires  at  night  Lieutenant  Baylor 
entertained  us  with  accounts  of  early  days  on  the 
frontier.  He  was  born  August  24,  1832,  at  old 
Fort  Gibson  in  the  Cherokee  nation,  now  the  State 
of  Oklahoma.  His  father,  John  Walker  Baylor, 
was  a  surgeon  in  the  United  States  Army.  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor  was  a  soldier  by  training  and  by  in- 
heritance. In  1879  he  was  in  his  forty-seventh 
year  and  stood  six  feet  two  inches  tall,  a  perfect 
specimen  of  a  hardy  frontiersman.  He  was  highly 
educated,  wrote  much  for  papers  and  magazines, 
was  a  fluent  speaker  and  a  very  interesting  talker 
and  story-teller.  He  was  less  reserved  than  any 
captain  under  whom  I  ever  served.  He  had  taken 
part  in  many  Indian  fights  on  the  frontier  of  Texas, 
and  his  descriptions  of  some  of  his  experiences 
were  thrilling.  Lieutenant  Baylor  was  a  high-toned 
Christian  gentleman  and  had  been  a  member  of  the 
Episcopal  Church  from  childhood.  In  all  the 
months  I  served  with  him  I  never  heard  him  utter 
an  oath  or  tell  a  smutty  yarn.  He  neither  drank 
whisky  nor  used  .tobacco.  Had  he  written  a  his- 
tory of  his  operations  on  the  frontier  and  a  biog- 


200 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

raphy  of  himself  it  would  have  been  one  of  the 
strangest  and  most  interesting  books  ever  written. 

I  have  not  the  power  of  language  to  describe 
Lieutenant  Baylor's  bravery,  because  he  was  as 
brave  as  it  is  possible  for  man  to  be.  He  thought 
everyone  else  should  be  the  same.  He  did  not  see 
how  a  white  man  could  be  a  coward,  yet  in  a  fierce 
battle  fought  with  Apache  Indians  on  October  5, 
1879,  I  saw  some  of  his  rangers  refuse  to  budge 
when  called  upon  to  charge  up  a  mountainside  and 
assault  the  redskins  concealed  above  us  in  some 
rocks.  George  Harold,  one  of  the  attacking  party, 
said,  "Lieutenant,  if  we  charge  up  that  hill  over 
open  ground  every  one  of  us  will  be  killed." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  declared  Baylor, 
a  contemptuous  smile  on  his  face.  Then,  pointing 
to  some  Mexicans  hidden  behind  some  boulders 
below  us,  he  added,  "You  had  better  go  back  to 
them.  That  is  where  you  belong." 

Lieutenant  Baylor  was  as  tender  hearted  as  a 
little  child  and  would  listen  to  any  tale  of  woe. 
He  frequently  took  men  into  the  service,  stood  good 
for  their  equipment  and  often  had  to  pay  the  bill 
out  of  his  own  pocket.  All  men  looked  alike  to 
him  and  he  would  enlist  anyone  when  there  was  a 
vacancy  in  the  company.  The  result  was  that  some 
of  the  worst  San  Simone  Valley  rustlers  got  into 

201 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  command  and  gave  us  no  end  of  trouble,  nearly 
causing  one  or  two  killings  in  our  camp. 

Baylor  cared  nothing  for  discipline  in  the  com- 
pany. He  allowed  his  men  to  march  carelessly. 
A  scout  of  ten  or  fifteen  men  would  sometimes  be 
strung  out  a  mile  or  more  on  the  march.  I  sup- 
pose to  one  who  had  commanded  a  regiment  dur- 
ing the  Civil  War  a  detachment  of  Texas  Rangers 
looked  small  and  insignificant,  so  he  let  his  men 
have  pretty  much  their  own  way.  To  a  man  like 
myself,  who  had  been  schooled  under  such  cap- 
tains as  Major  Jones,  Captain  Coldwell,  Captain 
Roberts,  and  Lieutenant  Reynolds,  commanders 
who  were  always  careful  of  the  disposition  and 
conduct  of  their  men,  this  method  of  Baylor's 
seemed  suicidal.  It  just  seemed  inevitable  that  we 
would  some  time  be  taken  by  surprise  and  shot 
to  pieces. 

Another  peculiarity  of  this  wonderful  man  was 
his  indifference  to  time.  He  would  strike  an  In- 
dian trail,  take  his  time  and  follow  it  to  the  jump- 
ing off  place.  He  would  say,  "There  is  no  use  to 
hurry,  boys.  We  will  catch  them  after  a  while." 
For  instance,  the  stage  driver  and  passenger  killed 
in  Quitman  Canyon,  January,  1880,  had  been  dead 
two  weeks  before  the  lieutenant  returned  from  a 
scout  out  in  the  Guadalupe  Mountains.  He  at  once 

202 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

directed  me  to  make  a  detail  of  all  except  three  men 
in  camp,  issue  ten  days'  rations,  and  have  the  men 
ready  to  move  early  next  morning.  An  orderly  or 
first  sergeant  is  hardly  ever  called  upon  to  scout 
unless  he  so  desires,  but  the  lieutenant  said,  "You 
had  better  come  along,  Sergeant.  You  may  get  an- 
other chance  to  kill  an  Indian."  It  seemed  unrea- 
sonable to  think  he  could  start  two  weeks  behind 
a  bunch  of  Indians,  follow  up  and  annihilate  the 
whole  band,  but  he  did.  Give  Comanches  or  Kiowas 
two  weeks'  start  and  they  would  have  been  in  Can- 
ada, but  the  Apaches  were  slow  and  a  different 
proposition  with  which  to  deal. 

Baylor  was  one  of  the  very  best  shots  with  fire- 
arms I  ever  saw.  He  killed  more  game  than  al- 
most the  entire  company  put  together.  When  we 
first  went  out  to  El  Paso  he  used  a  Winchester  rifle, 
but  after  the  first  Indian  fight  he  concluded  it  was 
too  light  and  discarded  it  for  a  Springfield  sporting 
rifle  45-70.  He  always  used  what  he  called  rest 
sticks;  that  is,  two  sticks  about  three  feet  long  the 
size  of  one's  little  finger.  These  were  tied  together 
about  four  or  five  inches  from  one  end  with  a  buck- 
skin thong.  In  shooting  he  would  squat  down,  ex- 
tend the  sticks  arm's  length  out  in  front  of  him 
with  the  longer  ends  spread  out  tripod-fashion  on 
the  ground.  With  his  gun  resting  in  the  fork  he 

203 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

had  a  perfect  rest  and  could  make  close  shots  at 
long  range.  The  lieutenant  always  carried  these 
sticks  in  his  hand  and  used  them  on  his  horse  as 
a  quirt.  In  those  days  I  used  to  pride  myself  on 
my  shooting  with  a  Winchester,  but  I  soon  found 
that  Lieutenant  Baylor  had  me  skinned  a  mile  when 
it  came  to  killing  game  at  long  distance.  I  never 
could  use  rest  sticks,  for  I  always  forgot  them  and 
shot  offhand. 

I  cannot  close  this  description  of  Lieutenant  Bay- 
lor without  mentioning  his  most  excellent  wife,  who 
made  the  long,  tedious  journey  from  San  Antonio 
to  El  Paso  County  with  us.  She  was  Sallie  Gar- 
land Sydnor,  born  February  11,  1842.  Her  father 
was  a  wholesale  merchant  at  Galveston,  and  at  one 
time  mayor  of  that  city.  Mrs.  Baylor  was  highly 
educated  and  a  very  refined  woman  and  a  skillful 
performer  on  the  piano.  Her  bright,  sunny  dis- 
position and  kind  heart  won  her  friends  among  the 
rangers  at  once.  How  sad  it  is  to  reflect  that  of 
the  twelve  persons  in  that  little  party  that  marched 
out  of  San  Antonio  on  August  2,  1879,  only  three 
are  living:  Gus  Small,  Miss  Mary  Baylor,  and 
myself. 

When  we  had  passed  Pecan  Springs  on  Devil's 
River  there  was  not  another  cattle,  sheep  or  goat 
ranch  until  we  reached  Fort  Stockton,  two  hundred 

204 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

miles  to  the  west.  It  was  just  one  vast  uninhab- 
ited country.  Today  it  is  all  fenced  and  thousands 
of  as  fine  cattle,  sheep  and  goats  as  can  be  found 
in  any  country  roam  those  hills.  The  Old  Spanish 
Trail  traverses  most  of  this  section,  and  in  travel- 
ing over  it  today  one  will  meet  hundreds  of  people 
in  high  powered  automobiles  where  forty  years  ago 
it  was  dangerous  for  a  small  party  of  well  armed 
men  to  journey.  While  ascending  Devil's  River  I 
learned  that  Lieutenant  Baylor  was  not  only  a  good 
hunter,  but  a  first  class  fisherman  as  well,  for  he 
kept  the  entire  camp  well  supplied  with  fine  bass 
and  perch,  some  of  the  latter  being  as  large  as 
saucers. 

Forty  miles  west  of  Beaver  Lake  we  reached 
Howard's  Well,  situated  in  Howard's  Draw,  a  trib- 
utary of  the  Pecos  River.  Here  we  saw  the  burned 
ruins  of  a  wagon  train  that  had  been  attacked  by 
Indians  a  few  months  before.  All  the  mules  had 
been  captured,  the  teamsters  killed  and  the  train 
of  sixteen  big  wagons  burned.  Had  the  same  In- 
dians encountered  our  little  party  of  ten  men,  two 
women  and  two  children  we  would  all  have  been 
massacred. 

Finally  we  reached  old  Fort  Lancaster,  an  aban- 
doned government  post,  situated  on  the  east  bank 
of  Live  Oak  Greek,  just  above  the  point  where  this 

205 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

beautiful  stream  empties  into  the  Pecos.  We 
camped  here  and  rested  under  the  shade  of  those 
big  old  live  oak  trees  for  several  days.  From  this 
camp  we  turned  north  up  the  Pecos,  one  of  the 
most  curious  rivers  in  Texas.  At  that  time  and 
before  its  waters  were  much  used  for  irrigation  in 
New  Mexico,  the  Pecos  ran  bank  full  of  muddy 
water  almost  the  year  round.  Not  more  than  thirty 
or  forty  feet  wide,  it  was  the  most  crooked  stream 
in  the  world,  and  though  only  from  four  to  ten 
feet  deep,  was  so  swift  and  treacherous  that  it  was 
most  difficult  to  ford.  However,  it  had  one  real 
virtue;  it  was  the  best  stream  in  Texas  for  both 
blue  and  yellow  catfish  that  ranged  in  weight  from 
five  to  forty  pounds.  We  were  some  days  travel- 
ing up  this  river  to  the  pontoon  crossing  and  we 
feasted  on  fish. 

At  Pontoon  Crossing  on  the  Pecos  we  intercepted 
the  overland  mail  route  leading  from  San  Antonio 
to  El  Paso  by  way  of  Fredericksburg,  Fort  Mason, 
Menard,  Fort  McKavett,  Fort  Goncho,  Fort  Stock- 
ton, and  Fort  Davis,  thence  west  by  Eagle  Springs 
through  Quitman  Ganyon,  where  more  tragedies 
and  foul  murders  have  been  committed  by  Indians 
than  at  any  other  point  on  the  route.  Ben  Fricklin 
was  the  mail  contractor.  The  stage  stands  were 
built  of  adobe  and  on  the  same  unchanging  plan. 

206 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

On  each  side  of  the  entrance  was  a  large  room.  The 
gateway  opened  into  a  passageway,  which  was 
roofed,  and  extended  from  one  room  to  the  other. 
In  the  rear  of  the  rooms  was  the  corral,  the  walls 
of  which  were  six  to  eight  feet  high  and  two  feet 
thick,  also  of  sun  dried  brick.  One  room  was  used 
for  cooking  and  eating  and  the  other  for  sleeping 
quarters  and  storage.  The  stage  company  furnished 
the  stage  tender  with  supplies  and  he  cooked  for 
the  passengers  when  there  were  such,  charging 
them  fifty  cents  per  meal,  which  he  was  allowed 
to  retain  for  his  compensation. 

When  the  stage  rolled  into  the  station  the  tender 
swung  open  the  gates  and  the  teams,  small  Spanish 
mules,  dashed  into  the  corral.  The  animals  were 
gentle  enough  when  once  in  the  enclosure,  but  mean 
and  as  wild  as  deer  when  on  the  road.  The  stage 
company  would  buy  these  little  mules  in  lots  of 
fifty  to  a  hundred  in  Mexico  and  distribute  them 
along  the  route.  The  tiny  animals  were  right  off 
the  range  and  real  unbroken  bronchos.  The  mules 
were  tied  up  or  tied  down  as  the  case  might  be  and 
harnessed  by  force.  When  they  had  been  hitched 
to  the  stage  coach  or  buckboard  the  gates  to  the 
corral  were  opened  and  the  team  left  on  the  run. 
The  intelligent  mules  soon  learned  all  they  had  to 
do  was  to  run  from  one  station  to  the  next,  and 

207 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

could  not  be  stopped  between  posts  no  matter  what 
happened.  Whenever  they  saw  a  wagon  or  a  man 
on  horseback  approaching  along  the  road  they 
would  shy  around  the  stranger,  and  the  harder  the 
driver  held  them  the  faster  they  ran. 

On  our  way  out  our  teams  were  pretty  well 
fagged  out,  and  often  Lieutenant  Baylor  would 
camp  within  a  few  yards  of  the  road.  The  Spanish 
stage  mules  would  see  our  camp  and  go  around 
us  on  the  run  while  their  drivers  would  curse  and 
call  us  all  the  vile  names  they  could  lay  their  tongues 
to  for  camping  in  the  road. 

When  we  camped  at  a  station  it  was  amusing  to 
me  to  watch  the  stage  attendants  harness  those  wary 
little  animals.  The  stage  or  buckboard  was  always 
turned  round  in  the  corral  and  headed  toward  the 
next  station  and  the  passengers  seated  themselves 
before  the  mules  were  hitched.  When  all  was  ready 
and  the  team  harnessed  the  driver  would  give  the 
word,  the  station  keeper  threw  open  the  gates  and 
the  stage  was  off  on  a  dead  run. 

There  should  be  a  monument  erected  to  the 
memory  of  those  old  stage  drivers  somewhere  along 
this  overland  route,  for  they  were  certainly  the 
bravest  of  the  brave.  It  took  a  man  with  lots  of 
nerve  and  strength  to  be  a  stage  driver  in  the  In- 
dian days,  and  many,  many  of  them  were  killed. 

208 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

The  very  last  year,  1880,  that  the  stage  line  was 
kept  up  several  drivers  were  killed  between  Fort 
Davis  and  El  Paso.  Several  of  these  men  quit  the 
stage  company  and  joined  Lieutenant  Baylor's  com- 
pany, and  every  one  of  such  ex-drivers  made  excel- 
lent rangers. 

From  Pontoon  Crossing  on  the  Pecos  River  we 
turned  due  west  and  traveled  the  stage  route  the 
remainder  of  the  way  to  El  Paso  County.  At  Fort 
Stockton  we  secured  supplies  for  ourselves  and  feed 
for  our  horses,  the  first  place  at  which  rations  could 
be  secured  since  leaving  Fort  Clark.  Fort  Stockton 
was  a  large  military  post  and  was  quite  lively, 
especially  at  night,  when  the  saloons  and  gambling 
halls  were  crowded  with  soldiers  and  citizen  con- 
tractors. At  Leon  Holes,  ten  miles  west  of  Fort 
Stockton,  we  were  delayed  a  week  because  of  Mrs. 
Baylor  becoming  suddenly  ill.  Passing  through 
Wild  Rose  Pass  and  up  Limpia  Canyon  we  suffered 
very  much  from  the  cold,  though  it  was  only  the 
last  of  August.  Coming  from  a  lower  to  a  higher 
altitude  we  felt  the  change  at  night  keenly.  That 
was  the  first  cold  weather  I  had  experienced  in  the 
summer. 

Finally,  on  the  12th  day  of  September,  1879,  we 
landed  safe  and  sound  in  the  old  town  of  Ysleta, 
El  Paso  County,  after  forty-two  days  of  travel  from 

209 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

San  Antonio.  Here  we  met  nine  men,  the  remnant 
of  Lieutenant  Tays'  Company  "G"  rangers.  The 
first  few  days  after  our  arrival  were  spent  in  secur- 
ing quarters  for  Lieutenant  Baylor's  family  and  in 
reorganizing  the  company.  Sergeant  Ludwick  was 
discharged  at  his  own  request,  and  I  was  made  first 
sergeant,  Tom  Swilling  second  sergeant,  John  Sea- 
born first  corporal,  and  George  Lloyd  second  cor- 
poral. The  company  was  now  recruited  up  to  its 
limit  of  twenty  men.  Before  winter  Lieutenant 
Baylor  bought  a  fine  home  and  fifteen  or  twenty 
acres  of  land  from  a  Mr.  Blanchard.  The  rangers 
were  quartered  comfortably  in  some  adobe  build- 
ings with  fine  corrals  nearby  and  within  easy  dis- 
tance of  the  lieutenant's  residence.  We  were  now 
ready  for  adventure  on  the  border. 

When  we  arrived  at  Ysleta  the  Salt  Lake  War 
had  quieted  down  and  order  had  been  restored. 
Although  nearly  a  hundred  Mexicans  were  indicted 
by  the  El  Paso  grand  jury,  no  one  was  ever  pun- 
ished for  the  murder  of  Judge  Howard  and  his 
companions.  In  going  over  the  papers  of  Sergeant 
Ludwick  I  found  warrants  for  the  arrest  of  fifty 
or  more  of  the  mob  members.  Though  most  of 
the  murderers  had  fled  to  Old  Mexico  immediately 
after  the  killing  of  the  Americans,  most  of  them 
had  returned  to  the  United  States  and  their  homes 

210 


THE  SALT  LAKE  WAR  AND  A  LONG  TREK 

along  the  Rio  Grande.  I  reported  these  warrants 
to  Lieutenant  Baylor  and  informed  him  that,  with 
the  assistance  of  a  strong  body  of  rangers  I  could 
probably  capture  most  of  the  offenders  in  a  swift 
raid  down  the  valley.  The  lieutenant  declared  that 
he  had  received  instructions  from  Governor  Roberts 
to  exercise  extreme  care  not  to  precipitate  more 
trouble  over  Howard's  death,  and,  above  all  things, 
not  incite  a  race  war  between  the  Mexican  offenders 
and  the  white  people  of  the  country.  He  decided, 
therefore,  that  we  had  better  not  make  any  move 
at  all  in  the  now  dead  Salt  Lake  War.  And  of 
course  I  never  again  mentioned  the  matter  to  him. 
Though  the  Salt  Lake  War  was  over,  new  and 
adventurous  action  was  in  store  for  us,  and  within 
less  than  a  month  after  our  arrival  in  Ysleta  we  had 
our  first  brush  with  the  Apaches,  a  tribe  of  Indians 
I  had  never  before  met  in  battle. 


211 


CHAPTER  XII 
OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

On  October  5,  1879,  at  midnight,  Pablo  Mejia 
brought  Lieutenant  Baylor,  from  Captain  Gregorio 
Garcia  of  San  Elizario,  a  note  stating  that  a  band 
of  Apaches  had  charged  a  camp  of  five  Mexicans 
who  were  engaged  in  cutting  hay  for  the  stage  com- 
pany fourteen  miles  north  of  La  Quadria  stage 
station  and  killed  them.  As  first  sergeant  I  was 
ordered  to  make  a  detail  of  ten  men  and  issue  them 
five  days'  rations.  I  detailed  Second  Sergeant  Tom 
Swilling,  Privates  Gus  Small,  George  Lloyd,  John 
Thomas,  George  Harold,  Doc  Shivers,  Richard 
Head,  Bill  Rutherford,  and  Juan  Garcia  for  the 
scout,  and  myself  made  the  tenth  man.  It  required 
an  hour  to  arouse  the  men,  issue  the  rations  and 
ammunition  and  pack  the  two  mules,  so  it  was  1 
o'clock  a.  m.  when  we  finally  left  Ysleta. 

By  daylight  we  reached  Hawkins  Station,  near 
where  Fabins  Station  now  is.  Here  we  were  told 
we  would  find  the  survivor  of  the  terrible  massacre. 
Riding  up  to  the  door  of  the  stage  house  we  had 
to  thump  some  time  before  we  had  evidence  that 
anyone  was  alive  on  the  premises.  Finally  the 
door  opened  about  an  inch  very  cautiously  and  a 

212 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

Mexican  peeped  out.  Lieutenant  Baylor  asked  him 
if  he  had  been  one  of  the  grameros  or  hay  cutters. 

"Si,  senor,"  replied  the  sleepy  Mexican. 

Asked  for  an  account  of  the  massacre,  the  native 
said  it  was  nearly  dark  when  the  Indians,  number- 
ing from  twenty-five  to  fifty,  charged  the  camp  and 
uttered  such  horrid  yells  that  everyone  took  to  his 
heels  and  was  soon  in  the  chaparral.  The  speaker 
saw  his  pobrecita  papa  (poor  papa)  running,  with 
the  Indians  about  to  lance  him,  and  knew  that  he 
and  the  remainder  of  the  party  were  killed.  He 
himself  only  escaped.  As  he  mentioned  the  tragic 
death  of  his  beloved  parent  the  tears  rolled  down 
his  cheeks.  Lieutenant  Baylor  comforted  the 
weeper  as  best  he  could  and  asked  if  the  Mexican 
would  not  guide  the  rangers  to  the  raided  camp, 
but  the  survivor  declined  with  thanks,  saying  he 
must  stay  to  help  the  station  keeper  take  care  of 
the  stage  mules,  but  he  directed  us  to  the  ranch 
where  some  of  the  dead  men's  families  lived  and 
at  which  a  guide  could  be  obtained. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  ranch  below  Hawkins 
Station  it  was  sunrise  and  we  halted  for  breakfast 
after  a  night  ride  of  forty  miles.  The  people  at 
the  ranch  were  very  uneasy  when  we  rode  up,  but 
were  rejoiced  when  they  realized  we  were  Texas 
Rangers  and  learned  our  mission.  They  showed  us 

213 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

every  attention.  Among  the  first  to  come  out  to  us 
was  an  old  Mexican  who  had  been  in  the  hay  camp 
when  it  was  attacked.  He  gave  a  lurid  account  of 
the  onset.  His  son  had  been  one  of  the  grameros, 
and  when  he  mentioned  this  the  tears  began  to 
flow. 

"Ah,  hi  jo  de  mi  cara  Juan.  I  shall  never  see  him 
again,"  he  lamented.  "All  were  killed  and  I  alone 
escaped !" 

Lieutenant  Baylor  then  explained  to  the  weeping 
father  that  his  son  was  very  much  alive  and  that 
we  had  seen  him  that  very  night  bewailing  the 
death  of  the  father  he  thought  killed.  And  it  now 
developed  that  all  the  dead  men  were  alive!  When 
the  camp  was  attacked  each  Mexican  had  scattered, 
and  the  Apaches  had  been  too  busy  looting  the 
stores  to  foUow  the  fugitives.  Moreover^  those 
ranchers  would  fight  and  the  Indians  did  not  care 
to  follow  them  into  the  brush. 

A  bright  young  Mexican  went  with  us  to  the  hay 
camp,  which  was  about  six  miles  toward  Comales, 
where  Don  Juan  Armendaris  now  has  a  cow  ranch. 
The  Apaches  had  made  a  mess  of  things  in  camp 
sure  enough.  They  had  broken  all  the  cups  and 
plates,  poured  salt  into  the  sugar,  this  combination 
into  the  flour  and  beans  and  the  conglomeration  of 
the  whole  on  the  ground,  as  the  sacks  were  all  they 

214 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

wanted.  The  Indians  smashed  the  coffee  pot,  the 
frying  pan,  the  skillet  and  the  water  barrels  with 
an  ax.  Then  taking  all  the  blankets,  the  raiders 
started  eastward  as  though  they  intended  to  go  to 
the  Sierra  Priela,  but  after  going  a  mile  the  trail 
turned  south.  We  found  the  redskins  had  come 
from  the  north  by  way  of  Los  Cormuros  and  were 
probably  from  Fort  Stanton,  New  Mexico,  on  their 
way  to  raid  Old  Mexico.  They  were  in  a  dry  coun- 
try and  making  for  the  Rio  Grande,  fourteen  miles 
to  the  south.  When  they  discovered  the  hay  camp 
on  their  route  they  charged  it  and  fired  on  the  hay 
cutters.  The  Mexicans  scattered  and  made  their 
escape  in  the  darkness,  each  thinking  himself  the 
sole  survivor  and  so  reporting  on  reaching  his  home, 
though  as  a  matter  of  fact  not  a  single  life  was  lost. 
Our  guide  went  back  to  give  the  alarm  to  the 
ranches  below  and  we  followed  the  trail  down  the 
mesa  until  opposite  Guadalupe.  There  we  crossed 
the  overland  stage  route  near  the  present  Rio 
Grande  Station  and  found  our  guide  waiting  for 
us.  He  had  discovered  the  trail,  and  fearing  the 
Indians  might  ambush  the  road  below,  he  had 
awaited  our  arrival.  The  trail  made  straight  for 
the  Rio  Grande,  crossing  about  one  mile  west  of 
the  Mexican  town  of  Guadalupe.  From  the  pony 
and  mule  tracks  Lieutenant  Baylor  judged  there 

215 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

were  fifteen  to  twenty  Indians  in  the  band.  We  had 
some  trouble  following  the  trail  after  we  got  to 
the  river  bottom,  where  loose  horses  and  cattle  ran, 
but  a  few  of  us  dismounted  and  worked  the  trail 
out,  crossed  the  river  and  struck  camp  for  dinner. 

Lieutenant  Baylor  sent  Pablo  Mejia  into  town  to 
inform  the  president  of  Guadalupe  that  we  had 
followed  a  fresh  Apache  trail  to  the  Rio  Grande 
going  south  into  Mexico,  and  asked  permission  to 
follow  the  Indians  into  his  country.  The  scout  soon 
returned  and  reported  that  the  president  was  not 
only  pleased  that  we  had  pursued  the  redskins,  but 
would  willingly  join  us  himself  with  all  the  men  he 
could  muster.  Just  after  we  crossed  the  river  we 
came  across  a  Mexican  herder  with  a  flock  of  goats. 
As  soon  as  he  heard  we  were  trailing  the  Apaches 
he  began  yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and  soon 
had  the  goats  on  the  jump  for  town,  though  the 
Indians  had  passed  the  night  before.  We  were 
quickly  in  saddle  again,  and  as  we  rode  into  the 
pueblo  we  were  kindly  received  by  the  people.  We 
found  a  mare  the  Apaches  had  killed  just  on  the 
edge  of  town  and  from  which  they  had  taken  some 
of  the  choice  steaks. 

After  leaving  Guadalupe  the  trail  went  south, 
following  closely  the  stage  road  from  Juarez  to 
Chihuahua.  Not  long  after  leaving  town  we  met 

216 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

a  courier  coining  to  Guadalupe  from  Don  Ramon 
Arrandas'  ranch,  San  Marcos  de  Cantarica,  twenty- 
one  miles  distant,  who  informed  us  that  the  Apaches 
had  killed  a  herder  on  that  ranch  and  had  taken 
four  horses  and  sixteen  mules  of  the  stage  company. 
We  hurried  onward  and  reached  Cantarica  at  sun- 
set, having  traveled  seventy-eight  miles  since  1  a.  m. 
that  morning.  Both  men  and  horses  were  rather 
tired. 

All  was  confusion  at  the  ranch.  The  Mexican 
herder  had  been  shrouded  and  laid  out  with  a  cross 
at  his  head  and  several  little  lighted  candles  near 
the  body.  Many  women  were  sitting  around  the 
room  with  black  shawls  pulled  up  over  their  heads. 
The  Apaches,  numbering  sixteen  well  armed  and 
well  mounted  warriors,  had  slain  their  victim  and 
captured  the  stock  near  the  ranch  just  about  noon. 
Mexican  volunteers  from  Guadalupe  and  San  Ig- 
nacio  began  to  ride  in  until  our  combined  force 
numbered  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  men.  Every- 
one was  excited  at  the  thought  of  a  brush  with  the 
redskins  responsible  for  the  murder. 

Accompanied  by  our  volunteer  allies  we  left  the 
ranch  at  daylight  next  morning  and  picked  up  the 
trail  at  once.  It  led  off  south  along  the  base  of  the 
Armagora  Mountains  or  Sierra  Bentanos.  As  the 
Mexicans  were  familiar  with  the  country  they  took 

217 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  lead  and  followed  the  trail  rapidly.  About  11 
o'clock  the  trailers  halted  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Canyon  del  Moranos,  an  ugly  black  hole  cut  in  the 
mountains,  looking  grim  and  defiant  enough  with- 
out the  aid  of  Apache  warriors.  When  we  had 
joined  the  Mexicans — we  were  traveling  some  half 
a  mile  behind  them — Lieutenant  Baylor  and  Captain 
Garcia  held  a  short  conference.  The  lieutenant 
turned  to  me  and  said  that  Captain  Garcia  declared 
the  Indians  were  in  the  canyon  among  the  rocks, 
and  ordered  me  to  detail  two  men  to  guard  our 
horses  while  we  scaled  the  mountain  on  foot  and 
investigated  it.  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  be- 
lieve that  a  band  of  Indians  that  had  killed  a  man 
and  driven  off  all  the  stage  stock  the  day  before 
had  gone  only  thirty  miles  and  was  now  lying  in 
wait  for  us. 

"You  don't  know  the  Apaches,"  Lieutenant  Baylor 
declared  when  I  voiced  my  thoughts.  "They  are 
very  different  from  the  plains  Indians,  the  kind  you 
have  been  used  to  following.  These  Apaches  de- 
light to  get  into  the  rocks  and  lay  for  their  enemies." 

At  the  conference  the  Mexicans  suggested  that 
Lieutenant  Baylor  should  take  nine  of  his  men  and 
ten  of  their  volunteers  and  follow  the  trail  up  the 
canyon,  but  the  lieutenant  declared  that  this  would 
never  do,  as  the  Apaches  had  no  doubt  anticipated 

218 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

just  such  a  move  and  hidden  themselves  in  the 
cliffs  where  they  could  kill  their  attackers  without 
exposing  themselves  in  the  least.  He  proposed 
scaling  the  mountain  and  following  them  down  on 
top  of  the  ridge  in  the  Indians'  rear.  And  this  was 
the  strategy  finally  adopted. 

The  Mexicans  dismounted  and  started  up  the 
mountainside  about  one  hundred  yards  to  our  left. 
Lieutenant  Baylor  and  his  eight  rangers  marched 
straight  forward  from  our  horses  and  began  the 
ascent.  As  we  went  along  the  lieutenant  pulled 
some  bunch  grass  and  stuck  it  all  around  under  his 
hat  band  so  his  head  would  look  like  a  clump  of 
grass  and  conceal  his  head  and  body  if  he  should 
have  to  flatten  himself  on  the  ground.  He  coun- 
selled us  to  follow  his  example.  I  had  taken  some 
Mexican  cheese  out  of  my  saddle  pockets  and  was 
eating  it  as  we  marched  carelessly  up  the  mountain. 
Honestly,  I  did  not  believe  there  was  an  Indian 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  us,  but  it  was  not  long 
before  I  changed  my  mind.  Suddenly  there  came 
a  loud  report  of  a  gun  and  then  another.  I  looked 
up  to  where  the  Mexicans  had  taken  position  behind 
a  ledge  of  rocks  and  saw  where  a  bullet  struck  the 
stones  a  foot  above  their  heads.  I  did  not  want 
any  more  cheese.  I  threw  down  what  I  had  in 
my  hand  and  spat  out  what  I  had  in  my  mouth. 

219 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

These  old  Apache  warriors,  high  in  the  cliffs 
above  us,  then  turned  their  attention  to  our  little 
band  of  eight  rangers  and  fired  twenty-five  or  thirty 
shots  right  into  the  midst  of  us.  One  of  these  big 
caliber  bullets  whizzed  so  close  to  my  head  that  it 
made  a  noise  like  a  wild  duck  makes  when  flying 
down  stream  at  the  rate  of  fifty  to  sixty  miles  an 
hour.  Lieutenant  Baylor  ordered  us  to  charge  at 
once. 

In  running  up  the  mountain  I  was  somewhat  in 
advance  of  the  boys.  We  came  to  a  rock  ledge 
three  or  four  feet  high.  I  quickly  scaled  this,  but 
before  I  could  straighten  up  an  Indian  rose  from 
behind  a  rock  about  fifteen  to  twenty  yards  ahead 
and  fired  point-blank  at  me.  The  bullet  struck  a 
small  soap  weed  three  feet  in  front  of  me  and 
knocked  the  leaves  into  my  mouth  and  face.  I  felt 
as  if  I  had  been  hit  but  it  was  leaves  and  not  blood 
that  I  wiped  out  of  my  mouth  with  my  left  hand. 
I  turned  my  head  and  called  to  the  boys  to  look 
out,  but  the  warning  was  unnecessary, — they  had 
already  taken  shelter  under  the  ledge  of  rock. 

Just  as  I  turned  my  head  a  second  shot  from  the 
Apache  carried  away  the  entire  front  part  of  my 
hat  brim.  I  saw  the  warrior  throw  another  cart- 
ridge in  his  gun  and  brought  my  Winchester  quickly 
to  bear  upon  him.  When  he  saw  that  I  was  about 

220 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

to  shoot  he  shifted  his  position  and  turned  side- 
ways to  me.  We  both  fired  at  the  same  instant. 
My  bullet  hit  the  redskin  just  above  his  hip  and, 
passing  straight  through  his  body,  broke  the  small 
of  his  back  and  killed  him  almost  instantly.  This 
old  brave  was  a  big  man,  probably  six  feet  tall, 
with  his  face  painted  in  red  and  blue  paint.  He 
used  an  old  octagon  barrel  Winchester  rifle  and  he 
had  with  him  an  old  shirtsleeve  tied  at  one  end  in 
which  were  two  hundred  and  fifty  Winchester 
cartridges. 

Some  Indians  fifty  yards  up  the  mountain  now 
began  to  shell  our  position,  so  I  took  shelter  behind 
the  ledge  of  rock.  Fifteen  or  twenty  feet  to  our 
left  and  a  little  higher  up  the  mountain,  Lieutenant 
Baylor  was  sheltered  behind  some  boulders.  He 
raised  his  head  slightly  above  his  parapet  for  a  peep 
at  the  Indians  and  those  keen  sighted  warriors  saw 
him;  a  well  directed  shot  cut  part  of  the  grass  out 
of  his  hat.  Had  the  bullet  been  six  inches  lower 
it  would  have  struck  him  full  in  the  face. 

"Darn  that  old  Indian,"  exclaimed  Baylor,  duck- 
ing his  head.  "If  I  had  a  shot  gun  I  would  run  up 
and  jump  right  on  top  of  him." 

The  lieutenant  was  mad  now  and  ordered  a 
charge.  The  boys  hesitated,  and  George  Harold, 
an  old  scout,  said,  "Lieutenant,  if  we  leave  this 

221 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

shelter  and  start  up  the  mountain  the  Indians  hid- 
den behind  those  rocks  seventy-five  yards  above 
will  kill  us  all." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you  are  right;  they  would  be  hard 
to  dislodge,"  replied  Baylor. 

The  Apaches  evidently  had  plenty  of  ammunition, 
as  they  kept  up  a  desultory  fire  all  day.  Seeing  we 
were  not  going  to  fall  into  their  trap  they  turned 
their  attention  to  our  horses.  Although  the  ani- 
mals were  four  or  five  hundred  yards  from  the  foot 
of  the  mountain  they  killed  Sergeant  Swilling's 
horse,  the  bullet  'passing  entirely  through  the  body 
just  behind  the  shoulders.  When  his  horse,  a  large 
white  one,  staggered  and  tumbled  over,  Swilling 
began  to  mourn,  for  he  had  the  horror  of  walking 
all  Western  men  have.  John  Thomas,  however,  got 
the  laugh  on  him  by  saying,  "Sergeant,  you  had  bet- 
ter wait  and  see  if  you  are  going  back  to  camp." 
We  could  see  the  Indians'  bullets  knocking  up  dust 
all  around  the  horses  and  the  guard  replying  to  the 
fire.  Baylor  now  sent  a  man  and  had  the  guard 
move  the  horses  out  of  range. 

During  the  afternoon  the  Apaches  moved  up 
higher  toward  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  and  in 
doing  so  one  of  the  Indians  exposed  himself.  The 
Mexicans  to  our  left  spotted  him  and  killed  him 
with  a  well  directed  shot.  The  warrior  fell  out  in 

222 


OUR  FIRST  FIGHT  WITH  APACHES 

open  ground  where  he  was  literally  shot  all  to 
pieces. 

We  had  been  without  water  all  day  and  when 
night  came  Lieutenant  Baylor  and  Captain  Garcia 
decided  it  was  useless  to  continue  the  fight  any 
longer,  so  we  withdrew  toward  our  horses.  After 
reaching  the  animals  we  could  still  hear  the  Indians 
firing  on  our  positions.  We  might  have  captured 
the  Apaches'  horses  by  a  charge,  but  we  would  have 
had  to  go  down  the  side  of  the  mountain  and  across 
a  deep  canyon  where  we  would  have  been  com- 
pelled to  pick  our  way  slowly  under  a  constant 
cross  fire  from  the  concealed  riflemen,  and  neither 
Baylor  nor  Garcia  thought  the  horses  worth  the 
sacrifice  required  to  capture  them. 

As  the  nearest  water  was  thirty  miles  away  and 
our  men  and  horses  weary  and  thirsty,  we  rode 
back  to  our  hospitable  friend,  Don  Ramon  Arrandas' 
ranch,  where  our  horses  were  fed  and  we  ourselves 
supplied  with  fresh  milk  and  cheese.  On  our  re- 
turn to  Guadalupe  we  were  most  kindly  entertained 
by  Mr.  Maximo  Arrandas,  custom  house  officer  at 
San  Elizario,  and  brother  to  Don  Ramon.  We 
reached  our  headquarters  at  Ysleta  after  being  out 
five  days  and  traveling  two  hundred  and  twenty-two 
miles,  sustaining  no  other  damage  than  a  few 


223 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

bruises  from  scaling  the  mountain  and  the  loss  of 
Sergeant  Swilling's  horse.  This  first  brush  with 
Apaches,  however,  was  but  a  prelude  to  other  ex- 
peditions after  this  tribe,  and  we  were  soon  hot 
on  the  trail  of  Victorio,  the  Apache  Napoleon. 


224 


CHAPTER  XIII 
SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

About  a  month  after  our  first  brush  with  Apaches, 
during  November,  1879,  Chief  Victorio  quit  the 
Mescalero  Reservation  and  with  a  party  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  warriors  and  a  hundred  women 
and  children,  traveled  south  into  Mexico  on  a  raid. 
This  old  chief  was  probably  the  best  general  ever 
produced  by  the  Apache  tribe.  He  was  a  far  better 
captain  than  old  Geronimo  ever  was  and  capable 
of  commanding  a  much  larger  force  of  men.  His 
second  in  command  was  Nana,  also  a  very  able 
officer. 

Victorio  knew  every  foot  of  the  country  and  just 
where  to  find  wood,  water,  grass  and  abundance  of 
game,  so  he  took  his  time  and,  coming  from  New 
Mexico  down  into  the  state  of  Chihuahua,  stopped 
first  at  the  Santa  Maria.  The  country  about  this 
stream  is  very  mountainous,  especiaUy  to  the  south, 
and  here  he  could  find  refuge  in  case  of  an  attack 
from  Mexican  soldiers.  Of  this,  however,  there  was 
not  much  danger  at  that  time,  for  the  country  was 
thinly  settled,  farming  and  stock  raising  being  con- 
fined to  the  neighborhood  of  the  small  towns. 
Gradually  Chief  Victorio  moved  down  into  the  Can- 

225 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

delaria  Mountains,  approaching  them  from  the 
northwest.  Here  he  could  get  fresh  range  for  his 
large  band  of  horses  and  be  near  the  settlement  of 
San  Jose,  owned  by  Don  Mariano  Samaniego.  Here, 
also,  he  could  watch  the  public  road  between  Chi- 
huahua and  El  Paso  del  Norte,  the  present  Juarez. 
One  of  the  saddest  and  most  heartrending  trag- 
edies resulted  from  this  move.  Victorio  was 
camped  at  the  large  tanks  on  the  north  side  and 
almost  on  top  of  the  Candelaria  Mountains,  where 
he  had  fine  range  for  his  stock  and  plenty  of  game 
and  wood.  From  those  almost  inaccessible  peaks 
he  could  see  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles  in  every 
direction  and  watch  every  move  of  travelers  or 
hostile  forces.  The  old  chief  now  sent  a  small 
band  of  Indians,  some  six  or  seven  in  number,  on 
a  raid  against  the  little  settlement  of  San  Jose. 
Here  the  Indians  stole  a  bunch  of  Mexican  ponies 
and  hurried  back  to  their  camp  on  top  of  the  Can- 
delaria Mountains.  The  citizens  of  San  Jose  dis- 
covered the  loss  of  their  ponies,  and  on  examining 
the  trail,  found  there  was  only  a  small  band  of  In- 
dians in  the  raiding  party.  A  company  of  the  prin- 
cipal Mexicans  of  San  Jose,  under  the  command  of 
Don  Jose  Rodriguez,  and  augmented  by  volunteers 
from  the  little  town  of  Carrajal,  left  to  locate  the 
Indians  and  recover  the  stolen  horses.  The  litl 

226 


SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

band  of  fifteen  brave  men  went  to  the  northern  side 
of  the  mountains  and  struck  the  trail  of  Victorio's 
band  on  an  old  beaten  route  used  by  the  Indians, 
which  passed  from  the  Santa  Maria  River  to  the 
Candelaria  Mountains.  This  road  wound  between 
two  rocky  peaks  and  then  down  the  side  of  the 
hills  to  the  plain  between  them  and  the  Candelaria, 
ending  at  last  at  the  big  tank. 

From  his  position  on  the  tall  peaks  Victorio  had 
seen  the  little  body  of  Mexicans  long  before  they 
struck  his  trail  and,  knowing  they  would  never  come 
upon  the  Candelaria  after  seeing  the  size  of  his 
trail,  sent  forty  or  fifty  of  his  warriors  to  form  an 
ambuscade  where  the  trail  crosses  the  crest  be- 
tween the  two  peaks.  He  must  have  been  with  the 
braves  himself,  for  the  thing  was  skillfully  planned 
and  executed.  On  the  north  side  of  the  trail  there 
were  only  a  few  boulders,  but  on  the  south  the 
hills  were  very  broken,  rising  in  rough  tiers  of 
stones.  The  Apaches  hid  in  these  rocks  and  awaited 
their  victims.  On  November  7,  1879,  the  Mexicans 
entered  the  narrow  defile  and  as  soon  as  they  were 
between  the  two  parties  of  Indians  concealed  on 
each  side  of  the  pass  the  Apaches  on  the  north  side 
of  the  trail  fired  a  volley  upon  them.  The  Mexicans 
thereupon  made  for  the  rocks  on  the  south,  as  was 
natural.  As  they  sought  refuge  there  the  redskins 

227 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

in  the  cliffs  above  the  gallant  little  band  opened 
fire  on  them.  Caught  in  a  real  death  trap  the  entire 
punitive  force  was  massacred.  When  I  walked  over 
the  ground  some  time  afterward  I  saw  where  one 
Mexican  had  gotten  into  a  crevice  from  which  he 
could  shoot  anyone  coming  at  him  from  the  east 
or  west.  He  was  hidden  also  from  the  Indians  in 
the  cliffs  above  him,  but  his  legs  were  exposed  to 
the  warriors  on  the  north  side  and  they  had  liter- 
ally shot  them  off  up  to  his  knees.  I  also  found 
seven  dead  Mexicans  in  a  small  gulley,  and  on  a 
little  peak  above  them  I  discovered  the  lair  of  one 
old  Indian  who  had  fired  twenty-seven  shots  at  the 
tiny  group  until  he  had  killed  them  all,  for  I  found 
that  number  of  45-70  cartridge  shells  in  one  pile. 
Practically  all  the  horses  of  the  Mexicans  were 
killed.  Some  of  the  animals  had  been  tied  to  Span- 
ish dagger  plants  and  when  shot  ran  the  length  of 
their  rope  before  falling.  Some  of  the  bodies  rolled 
down  the  deep  canyon  until  they  reached  the  bottom 
of  what  we  called  the  Ganado  del  Muerte  (Ganyon 
of  Death) ,  and  the  Indians  removed  none  of  the  sad- 
dles or  ropes  from  the  dead  horses. 

When  the  company  of  Mexicans  did  not  return 
there  was  great  sorrow  and  alarm  in  the  little  town 
of  Carrajal.  As  it  was  supposed  that  only  a  small 
band  of  Apaches  bent  on  horse  stealing  was  in  the 

228 


SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

Candelarios,  another  small  band  of  fourteen  men 
volunteered  to  go  and  see  what  had  become  of 
their  friends  and  kindred.  Don  Jose  Mario  Rod- 
riguez was  appointed  commander,  and  the  little 
party  took  the  trail  of  their  comrades  with  sad 
forebodings.  Old  Victorio,  from  his  watch  towers 
in  the  Candelarios,  saw  this  rescue  party  and  pre- 
pared for  its  destruction.  The  signs  indicated  that 
the  second  party  had  walked  into  the  same  death 
trap  as  the  first,  but  the  second  band  had  scattered 
more  in  fighting  and  a  good  many  of  the  Mexicans 
were  killed  on  the  southern  slope  of  the  hills.  Two 
had  attempted  to  escape  on  horseback  but  were 
followed  and  killed.  I  found  one  of  these  unfor- 
tunates in  an  open  plain  some  six  hundred  yards 
from  the  hills.  He  had  been  surrounded,  and,  see- 
ing escape  was  impossible,  had  dismounted,  tied 
his  horse  to  a  Spanish  dagger  plant  and  put  up  a 
good  fight.  I  found  thirty  or  forty  cartridge  shells 
near  where  he  had  fallen.  His  pony  had  been 
killed  and  the  dagger  plant  shot  to  pieces.  The 
Apaches  had  cut  off  his  right  hand  and  had  carried 
away  his  gun,  sixshooter,  saddle  and  bridle. 

When  neither  party  returned  then,  indeed,  was 
there  sorrow  in  the  town  of  Carrajal,  for  twenty- 
nine  of  her  principal  citizens  had  left  never  to  re- 
turn. Wives,  mothers,  and  sweethearts  mourned 

229 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  loss  of  their  dear  ones.  A  runner  was  sent  to 
El  Paso  del  Norte  and  the  citizens  began  to  organize 
a  punitive  expedition  at  once,  calling  on  Saragosa, 
Tres  Jacalas,  Guadalupe,  and  San  Ignacio  for  their 
quotas.  These  towns  responded  quickly  and  soon 
a  hundred  Mexicans  were  ready  to  take  the  field. 
A  note  was  sent  to  Lieutenant  Baylor  at  Ysleta  re- 
questing the  rangers  to  go  with  the  command. 
Baylor  readily  agreed  to  accompany  the  Mexicans, 
for  he  knew  it  was  only  a  question  of  time  before 
old  Victorio  would  again  be  murdering  and  robbing 
on  our  side  of  the  Rio  Grande.  A  detachment  of 
Company  "G"  had  been  in  one  Apache  fight  in 
Mexico  and  the  Mexicans  had  a  very  kindly  feeling 
for  us.  Lieutenant  Baylor's  detachment  of  ten 
rangers  crossed  the  Rio  Grande  at  Saragosa,  a  little 
town  opposite  Ysleta,  and  joined  the  Mexicans 
under  Senor  Ramos.  We  marched  to  the  ranch  of 
Don  Ynocente  Ochoa  until  the  volunteers  from  the 
other  towns  came  to  Samalaejuca  Springs.  When 
they  had  done  so  the  rangers  moved  down  and  our 
combined  command  amounted  to  one  hundred  and 
ten  men. 

After  organizing  their  force  the  Mexicans  sent 
Senor  Ramos  to  inform  Lieutenant  Baylor  that,  on 
account  of  his  experience  as  a  soldier  and  as  a 
compliment  to  the  rangers,  they  had  selected  him 

230 


SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

to  command  the  entire  party.  The  lieutenant 
thanked  the  messenger,  but  declared,  as  the  cam- 
paign was  on  Mexican  soil  to  rescue  or  bury  Mexi- 
cans, it  would  be  more  proper  to  appoint  one  of 
their  own  men  commander,  and  that  he  himself 
would  cheerfully  serve  under  any  leader  so  chosen. 
Senor  Ramos  returned  shortly  and  notified  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor  that  the  Mexicans  had  selected  Don 
Francisco  Escapeda  of  Guadalupe  as  commander- 
in-chief  and  Lieutenant  Baylor  second  in  command. 
This  solution  of  the  leadership  problem  pleased 
us,  as  there  was  an  element  among  the  Mexican 
party  that  might  have  caused  friction.  Old  Chico 
Barelo,  the  pueblo  cacique  and  principal  com- 
mander of  the  mob  that  had  killed  Judge  Howard, 
Ellis,  Adkinson,  and  McBride  at  San  Elizario,  was 
with  the  expedition,  and  we  had  at  our  Ysleta  head- 
quarters warrants  for  the  arrest  of  himself  and 
many  others,  so  we  gave  the  old  fellow  to  under- 
stand we  were  now  fighting  a  common  enemy  and 
should  act  in  harmony  together.  We  did  this  more 
willingly,  because  we  had  learned  that  after  killing 
Judge  Howard  and  the  others  the  mob  wanted  to 
murder  all  the  rangers  barricaded  in  an  old  adobe 
house,  but  had  been  dissuaded  from  this  purpose 
by  old  Chico,  who  declared  the  rangers  could  only 
be  killed  after  he  had  first  been  slain. 

231 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Leaving  one  wagon  at  the  Ochoa  ranch  and  tak- 
ing three  days'  rations  cooked  and  more  in  case 
of  a  siege,  we  went  out  in  the  night  to  avoid  Vic- 
torio's  spies.  Don  Francisco  Escapeda  with  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor  were  at  the  head  of  the  column.  Ser- 
geant James  B.  Gillett  and  eight  rangers  followed 
in  Indian  file,  each  ranger  with  a  Mexican  by  his 
side,  showing  they  looked  on  us  as  volunteers  in 
the  Mexican  service.  We  rode  out  along  the  hard 
sand  road  beyond  Samalaejuca  and  sent  spies  ahead 
to  locate  the  Apaches  if  possible.  Before  we  reached 
the  Gandelarios  we  halted  behind  some  mountains 
to  await  their  report,  but  they  could  learn  nothing 
certain.  It  was  a  bitterly  cold  night  and  a  few  of 
us  made  fires  in  the  deep  arroyos.  We  moved  on 
toward  the  mountains  north  of  the  Gandelarios  and 
reached  them  early  next  morning  to  find  a  large 
fresh  trail  about  two  days  old  going  in  the  direction 
of  Lake  Santa  Maria,  but,  for  fear  of  some  strata- 
gem, we  divided  our  men.  One  party  took  the 
crest  south  of  the  trail  where  the  massacre  took 
place  while  the  other  went  to  the  right. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  the  entire  Apache  band 
had  left  and  that  nothing  remained  for  us  but  the 
sad  duty  of  collecting  the  bodies  of  the  dead  Mexi- 
cans for  burial.  The  second,  or  rescue  party,  had 
found  the  bodies  of  their  kinsmen  killed  in  the  first 

232 


SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

ambuscade  and  had  collected  them  and  put  them 
in  a  big  crevice  in  the  rocks.  When  they  began  to 
cover  the  corpses  with  loose  stones  the  Indians, 
who  had  been  watching  them  all  the  while  just  as 
a  cat  plays  with  a  mouse  before  killing  it,  opened 
fire  on  the  burial  party  and  killed  the  last  one  of 
the  unfortunate  men.  The  saddest  scene  I  ever  wit- 
nessed was  that  presented  as  we  gathered  the  bodies 
of  the  murdered  men.  At  each  fresh  discovery  of 
a  loved  friend,  brother  or  father  and  the  last  hope 
fled  that  any  had  escaped,  a  wail  of  sorrow  went 
up,  and  I  doubt  if  there  was  a  dry  eye  either  of 
Mexican  or  Texan  in  the  whole  command. 

While  the  immediate  relatives  were  hunting  for 
those  who  had  scattered  in  trying  to  escape,  we 
moved  south  to  the  main  tank  in  the  Candelarios. 
The  ascent  was  up  a  winding  path  on  the  steep 
mountainside  to  the  bench  where  the  tank,  one  of 
the  largest  in  the  west,  was  situated.  The  water 
coming  down  from  a  height,  and  big  boulders  fall- 
ing into  the  tank,  had  cut  a  deep  hole  in  the  solid 
rock  in  which  the  water  was  retained.  Although 
Victorio's  band  of  three  hundred  animals  and  two 
hundred  or  more  Indians  and  our  command  had 
been  using  the  water  it  could  scarcely  be  missed. 

We  sent  scouts  to  the  left  and  right  to  make  sure 
no  game  was  being  put  upon  us,  for  the  cunning 

233 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

old  chief,  after  sending  his  women  and  children  off, 
could  have  hidden  his  warriors  in  the  rough  cliff 
that  towered  high  above  and  commanded  the  tank 
of  water  and  slaughtered  all  those  below.  We  re- 
mained all  day  and  night  at  this  place.  It  was  the 
most  picturesque  spot  I  had  ever  seen.  We  rangers 
rambled  all  over  this  Indian  camp  and  found  many 
of  the  Mexican  saddles  hidden  in  the  cliffs  and 
several  hats,  each  with  bullet  holes  in  it.  We  also 
discovered  two  Winchester  rifles  that  had  been  hit 
in  the  fight  and  abandoned  as  useless.  I  saw  a 
hundred  or  more  old  rawhide  shoes  that  had  been 
used  to  cover  the  ponies'  feet  and  dozens  of  worn- 
out  moccasins.  This  party  of  Apaches  had  killed 
and  eaten  more  than  seventy-five  head  of  horses 
and  mules  in  this  camp. 

I  followed  a  plain,  well-beaten  foot  path  to  the 
topmost  peak  of  the  Gandelario  or  candle  moun- 
tain, so  called  from  the  candle-like  projection  of 
rocks  that  shot  skyward  from  its  top.  The  Cande- 
lario  is  in  an  open  plain  fifty  miles  south  of  El  Paso, 
Texas,  and  from  its  top  affords  one  of  the  grandest 
views  in  northern  Mexico.  To  the  south  one  could 
see  San  Jose  and  Garrajal,  to  the  north  the  moun- 
tains at  El  Paso  del  Norte,  to  the  west  the  moun- 
tains near  Santa  Maria  River  and  Lake  Guzman 
were  in  plain  view,  while  to  the  east  the  Sierra 

234 


SCOUTING  IN  MEXICO 

Bentanos  loomed  up,  apparently  only  a  few  miles 
away.  On  this  peak  old  Victorio  kept  spies  con- 
stantly on  the  lookout,  and  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible for  a  party  of  men  to  have  approached 
without  having  been  seen  by  these  keen-eyed 
watchers. 

All  the  bodies  having  been  recovered  they  were 
buried  in  a  crevice  of  the  mountain  where  they 
had  been  killed.  All  were  in  good  preservation 
owing  to  the  pure  cold  air  of  the  mountains.  It  is 
a  strange  fact,  but  one  beyond  question,  that  no 
wild  animal  or  bird  of  prey  will  touch  the  body  of 
a  Mexican.  These  corpses  had  lain  on  the  ground 
nearly  two  weeks  and  were  untouched.  If  they 
had  been  the  bodies  of  Indians,  negroes  or  Ameri- 
cans the  coyotes,  buzzards  and  crows  would  have 
attacked  them  the  first  day  and  night. 

Nothing  of  interest  occurred  on  our  return  trip. 
The  rangers,  as  usual,  -  always  ate  up  their  three 
days'  rations  the  first  camp  they  made  and  got 
out  of  bread,  but  our  Mexican  allies  divided  with 
us.  Don  Ynocente  Ochoa's  major-domo  or  ranch 
boss  gave  us  all  the  fresh  beef  we  could  eat  and  a 
supply  of  carne  seco  (dried  beef)  to  take  with  us 
on  campaign.  Quite  a  company  had  come  out  to 
see  us  from  Corrizal  and  we  returned  sadly  to  the 
widows  of  the  brave  men  who  fell  in  this,  probably 

235 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  most  wholesale  slaughter  ever  made  by  Vic- 
torio's  band.  The  citizens  of  Galena  were  nearly 
as  unfortunate,  but  it  was  old  Hu  and  Geronimo 
who  massacred  them.  All  the  Saragosa  men  made 
for  their  church  to  offer  up  thanks  for  a  safe  re- 
turn. Men,  women  and  children  uttered  their 
"Gracias,  senors,"  as  the  Texas  Rangers  rode 
through  their  town.  We  arrived  safely  in  our  adobe 
quarters  at  Ysleta  and  appreciated  them  after  sleep- 
ing out  of  doors. 

Though  Victorio  had  escaped  us  on  this  scout, 
and  though  he  was  to  muuder  and  pillage  for  a  time, 
yet  his  days  were  numbered.  Our  company  of 
rangers  were  again  to  cross  into  Mexico  in  pursuit 
of  him,  but,  though,  one  year  later,  he  and  eighty- 
nine  of  his  braves  were  killed  by  the  Mexicans 
under  Colonel  Joaquin  Terrazas,  the  rangers  were 
not  to  take  part  in  defeating  him.  However,  our 
rangers  were  destined  to  annihilate  a  small  band 
that  escaped  deserved  destruction  at  that  time  when 
it  resumed  its  depredations  in  Texas. 


236 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TREACHEROUS  BRAVES,  A  FAITHFUL  DOG, 
AND  A  MURDER 

During  the  latter  part  of  January,  1880,  two  min- 
ing engineers  named  Andrews  and  Wiswall  from 
Denver,  Colorado,  appeared  at  the  ranger  camp  in 
Ysleta.  They  had  a  new  ambulance  pulled  by  two 
elegant  horses  and  led  a  fine  saddle  pony.  They 
were  well  fitted  out  for  camping  and  had  the  finest 
big  black  shepherd  dog  I  had  ever  seen.  Mr.  An- 
drews used  a  Springfield  while  Mr.  Wiswall  carried 
a  Sharps  sporting  rifle,  besides  they  had  shotguns 
and  sixshooters.  These  miners  wanted  to  buy  one 
hundred  pack  burros  and,  not  finding  what  they 
wanted  in  the  Rio  Grande  Valley,  decided  to  go 
over  in  the  upper  Pecos  Valley  near  Eddy  or  Ros- 
well,  New  Mexico,  for  pack  animals.  They  con- 
sulted Lieutenant  Raylor  about  the  best  route  they 
should  follow.  He  advised  them  to  travel  down 
the  overland  stage  route  to  Fort  Davis,  thence  by 
Toyah  Creek  and  on  up  the  Pecos,  but  the  engineers 
thought  this  too  much  out  of  their  way  and  con- 
cluded to  travel  by  the  old  abandoned  Batterfield 
stage  route,  which  leads  by  Hueco  Tanks,  Alamo 
Springs,  Cornudas  Mountain,  Crow  Flat,  Guada- 

237 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

lupe  Mountain  and  thence  to  the  Pecos  River.  Lieu- 
tenant Raylor  warned  the  men  that  this  was  a  very 
dangerous  route,  without  a  living  white  man  from 
Ysleta  to  the  Pecos  River,  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  distant,  and  through  an  Indian  coun- 
try all  the  way. 

Nevertheless,  Andrews  and  Wiswall  selected  this 
latter  route,  and  the  third  day  out  from  our  camp 
reached  the  old  abandoned  stage  station  at  Grow 
Flat  about  noon.  This  was  in  an  open  country  and 
from  it  one  could  see  for  miles  in  every  direction. 
A  cold  north  wind  was  blowing,  so,  for  protection, 
the  two  men  drove  inside  the  old  station  walls,  un- 
hitched and  hobbled  their  horses  and  pony  and  were 
soon  busily  baking  bread,  frying  bacon  and  boiling 
coffee,  not  dreaming  there  was  an  Indian  in  the 
country,  though  they  had  been  warned  to  look  out 
for  them.  Like  all  men  traveling  in  that  country 
the  two  miners  had  the  appetite  of  coyotes  and  be- 
came deeply  absorbed  in  stowing  away  rations. 
Unnoticed,  the  horses  had  grazed  off  some  three  or 
four  hundred  yards  from  the  station  and  the  two 
men  were  suddenly  startled  by  a  yelling  and  the 
trampling  of  horses'  feet.  Looking  up,  Andrews 
and  Wiswall  saw  ten  or  twelve  Indians  driving  off 
their  horses. 

Seizing  their  guns,  the  two  white  men  starts 
238 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

after  the  thieves  at  top  speed.  Both  being  Western 
men  and  good  shots,  they  hoped,  by  opening  on  the 
redskins  with  their  long  range  guns,  to  get  close 
enough  to  prevent  them  from  taking  the  hobbles 
off  the  horses.  But  the  animals  made  about  as  good 
time  as  if  they  had  been  foot  loose.  This  fact  was 
well  known  to  the  Texas  Rangers,  who  hobbled  and 
side  lined  also  and,  even  then,  their  horses  when 
stampeded  would  run  as  fast  as  the  guards  could 
keep  up  with  them  on  foot.  The  Apaches  can't  be 
taught  anything  about  horse  stealing — they  are  al- 
ready past  masters  at  the  art.  And  while  some  of 
the  Indians  halted  and  fought  Andrews  and  Wis- 
wall  the  others  ran  the  horses  off  and  got  away 
with  them.  The  two  miners  returned  to  camp  feel- 
ing very  blue  indeed. 

A  council  of  war  was  held  and  they  were  unde- 
termined the  best  course  to  pursue.  To  walk  back 
one  hundred  miles  to  El  Paso  and  pack  grub, 
blankets  and  water  was  no  picnic.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  was  probably  seventy-five  miles  to  the 
Pecos,  but  they  finally  decided  to  take  the  shortest 
way  to  assistance,  which  proved  the  traditional 
longest  way.  They  determined  to  stay  within  the 
friendly  adobe  of  the  old  stage  stand  until  night. 
To  keep  up  appearances  they  rigged  up  two  dummy 
sentinels  and  put  them  on  guard.  They  had  no 

239 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

fear  of  an  attack  at  night,  especially  as  they  had 
a  dog  to  keep  watch.  They  left  the  station  at  dark. 
Shep,  the  dog,  wanted  to  go  with  them,  but  the  men 
put  a  sack  of  corn  and  a  side  of  bacon  under  the 
ambulance  and  made  him  understand  he  was  to 
guard  it.  They  then  set  out  and  followed  the  old 
stage  route  along  a  horrible  road  of  deep  sand.  At 
daybreak  they  were  near  the  point  of  the  Guadalupe 
Peak,  and  after  having  traveled  on  foot  about 
twenty-five  miles  they  were  pretty  well  worn  out. 

The  old  stage  road  here  turns  to  the  right  and 
gradually  winds  around  the  mountain  to  get  on 
the  mesa  land.  It  makes  quite  a  circuit  before  get- 
ting to  the  next  water,  Pine  Springs,  but  there  was 
an  old  Indian  trail  that  leads  up  the  canyon  and 
straight  through.  As  Andrews  and  Wiswall  were 
afoot  and  taking  all  the  short  cuts,  they  took  this 
trail.  It  was  late  in  the  day  when,  in  a  sudden 
bend  of  the  trail,  they  came  in  full  view  of  an 
entire  village  of  Indians  coming  towards  them. 
The  redskins  were  only  two  or  three  hundred  yards 
off  and  discovered  the  white  men  at  once. 

Under  such  circumstances  the  two  pedestrians 
had  to  think  quickly  and  act  at  once.  They  could 
not  hope  to  escape  by  running,  for  most  of  the 
Indians  were  mounted.  Fortunately,  to  the  south 
of  the  trail  there  was  a  sharp  sugar  loaf  peak,  and 

240 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

for  this  Andrews  and  Wiswall  made  with  all  speed. 
Reaching  the  summit  they  hastily  threw  up  breast- 
works of  loose  rocks  and  as  soon  as  the  Indians 
came  into  sight  they  opened  fire  on  them.  The 
redskins  returned  the  fire,  but  soon  discovered  they 
were  wasting  ammunition  and  ceased  firing.  The 
besieged,  suspicious  of  some  stratagem,  kept  a  sharp 
lookout,  and  soon  discovered  the  Indians  were 
crawling  upward  to  the  barricade  and  pushing  boul- 
ders before  them  to  shelter  their  bodies.  The  boys 
decided  to  keep  perfectly  still,  one  on  each  side, 
and  watch  for  a  chance  to  kill  a  savage. 

The  watcher  on  the  west  side,  where  the  fading 
light  still  enabled  him  to  see,  saw  a  mop  of  black 
hair  rise  cautiously  over  an  advancing  rock.  He 
fired  at  once.  The  head  disappeared  and  the  boul- 
der went  thundering  down  the  hill  with  the  two 
white  men  running  over  the  warrior,  who  was  kick- 
ing around  like  a  chicken  with  its  head  cut  off.  As 
good  luck  would  have  it  most  of  the  attackers  were 
on  the  east  side,  taking  it  for  granted  the  men  would 
try  to  escape  in  that  direction.  Before  the  aston- 
ished Apaches  could  understand  just  what  was  oc- 
curring, the  men,  running  like  old  black-tailed 
bucks,  were  out  of  hearing,  while  night  spread  her 
dark  mantle  over  them  in  kindness.  Being  good 


241 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

woodsmen,  the  fugitives  had  no  trouble  in  shaping 
their  course  to  Crow  Flat  again. 

Worn  out  and  weary  after  traveling  more  than 
fifty  miles  on  foot  and  with  not  a  wink  of  sleep  for 
thirty-six  hours,  they  made  the  old  stage  stand  and 
found  their  dummy  sentinels  still  on  guard  with 
the  faithful  shepherd  dog  at  his  post.  He  was  over- 
joyed at  the  return  of  his  masters.  At  the  old 
adobe  station  Andrews  and  Wiswall  were  in  a  meas- 
ure safe,  for  they  had  water  and  grub  and  the  walls 
of  the  stand,  five  feet  or  more  high,  would  shelter 
them.  Since  the  Apaches  had  made  no  attempt  to 
kill  the  dog  or  rob  the  ambulance,  the  miners  were 
satisfied  that  the  Indians,  after  stealing  their  horses, 
had  kept  on  their  way  to  the  Mescalero  Agency, 
near  Tularosa.  This  stage  station  was  on  the  high- 
way of  these  murderous,  thieving  rascals,  who  were 
constantly  raiding  Texas  and  Chihuahua,  and  in 
their  raids  they  had  made  a  deep  trail  leading  north 
from  Crow  Flat  or  Crow  Springs,  as  some  call  it, 
toward  the  Sacramento  Mountains. 

After  the  fugitives  had  rested  they  decided  they 
would  pull  out  after  dark  and  hoof  it  for  Ysleta. 
The  fifty  miles'  walk  over  a  rough  country  had 
pretty  well  worn  out  their  shoes,  so  they  used 
gunny  sacks  to  tie  up  their  sore  and  bleeding  feet. 
Again  giving  Shep  his  orders,  with  heavy  hearts 

242 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

Andrews  and  Wiswall  turned  their  faces  to  the 
Cornudos  Mountains,  with  the  next  stage  station 
twenty-five  miles  distant  without  one  drop  of  water 
on  the  way.  They  were  so  tired  and  foot-sore  they 
did  not  reach  Cornudos  until  late  the  next  day. 
Here  they  hid  in  the  rocks,  among  the  shady  nooks 
of  which  they  found  cold  water  and  sweet  rest. 
After  several  days  the  two  men  dragged  their  weary 
bodies,  more  dead  than  alive,  into  Ysleta  and  to 
the  ranger  camp. 

Lieutenant  Raylor  ordered  me  to  take  eight 
rangers,  and  with  two  mules,  proceed  to  Grow  Flat 
to  bring  in  the  ambulance  Andrews  and  Wiswall 
had  abandoned  there.  The  first  day  we  made  the 
Hueco  Tanks.  Hueco  is  Spanish  for  tanks,  and  in 
the  early  days  travelers  spelled  it  Waco.  Many  wild 
adventures  have  occurred  at  these  tanks — fights  be- 
tween the  Mexicans  and  the  Gomanches.  During 
the  gold  excitement  this  was  the  main  immigrant 
route  to  California.  Here,  too,  the  overland  stage 
route  had  a  stand.  The  names  of  Marcy,  General 
Lee,  and  thousands  of  others  could  be  seen  written 
on  the  rocks.  The  Indians  themselves  had  drawn 
many  rude  pictures,  one  of  which  was  quite  artistic 
and  depicted  a  huge  rattlesnake  on  the  rock  under 
the  cave  near  the  stage  stand  on  the  eastern  side 
of  Hueco. 

243 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Many  times  when  scouting  in  the  Sacramento  and 
Guadalupe  Mountains  I  have  camped  for  the  night 
in  the  Huecos.  Sometimes  the  water  in  the  tanks 
had  been  all  used  up  by  the  travelers  but  there  was 
always  plenty  of  good  cool  rain  water  twenty-five 
feet  above  the  main  ground  tanks.  Often  I  have 
watered  my  entire  command  by  scaling  the  moun- 
tain to  those  hidden  tanks  and,  filling  our  boots  and 
hats  with  water,  poured  it  on  the  flat,  roof-like 
rocks  so  it  would  run  down  into  the  tanks  below 
where  our  horses  and  mules  would  be  watered  in 
good  shape.  The  city  of  El  Paso,  I  am  told,  now 
has  a  fine  graded  road  to  those  old  historic  moun- 
tains and  many  of  its  citizens  enjoy  an  outing  there. 

Our  next  halt  was  at  the  Alamose,  across  the 
beautiful  plains,  at  that  time  covered  with  antelope 
that  could  be  seen  scudding  away  with  their  swift 
change  of  color  looking  like  a  flock  of  white  birds. 
Here  we  found  some  Indian  signs  at  the  flat  above 
the  springs,  but  it  was  at  Gornudos  that  we  again 
saw  the  old  signs  of  the  Apaches.  This  Cornudos 
is  a  strange  conglomeration  of  dark  granite  rocks 
shot  high  in  the  air  in  the  midst  of  the  plains  by 
some  eruption  of  the  earth  in  ages  past.  This  was 
the  favorite  watering  place  of  the  Tularosa  Agency 
Indians  on  their  raids  into  Texas  and  Mexico. 

From  Gornudos  to  Crow  Flat  is  a  long,  monot- 
244 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

onous  tramp  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles,  and  we 
arrived  in  the  night  and  were  promptly  challenged 
by  the  faithful  sentinel,  old  Shep.  Although  we 
were  strangers,  the  dog  seemed  to  recognize  us  as 
Americans  and  friends.  He  went  wild  with  joy, 
barked,  rolled  over  and  over  and  came  as  near 
talking  as  any  African  monkey  or  gorilla  could. 
We  gave  him  a  cheer.  The  faithful  animal  had 
been  there  alone  for  nearly  fifteen  days.  His  side 
of  bacon  was  eaten  and  the  sack  of  corn  getting 
very  low.  The  rangers  were  as  much  delighted  as 
if  it  had  been  a  human  being  they  had  rescued. 
The  dog  had  worn  the  top  of  the  wall  of  the  old 
stage  station  perfectly  smooth  while  keeping  off 
the  sneaking  coyotes.  Tracks  of  the  latter  were 
thick  all  around  the  place,  but  Shep  held  the  fort 
with  the  assistance  of  the  dummy  sentinels.  We 
found  everything  just  as  the  owners,  Andrews  and 
Wiswall,  had  left  it. 

As  was  my  custom,  I  walked  over  the  ground 
where  the  Apaches  and  Messrs.  Andrews  and  Wis- 
wall had  had  their  scrap.  Near  an  old  dagger 
plant  I  found  where  an  Indian  had  taken  shelter, 
or  rather  tried  to  hide  himself,  and  picked  up  a 
number  of  Winchester  .44  cartridge  shells.  We 
secured  the  ambulance  and  our  return  journey  was 


245 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

without  incident.  We  arrived  back  in  our  camp 
after  making  the  two  hundred  miles  in  a  week. 

Mr.  Andrews  presented  Lieutenant  Baylor  with 
a  beautiful  Springfield  rifle.  I  don't  know  whether 
Andrews  or  Wlswall  are  alive,  but  that  Mexican 
shepherd  dog  is  entitled  to  a  monument  on  which 
should  be  inscribed,  "FIDELITY." 

In  the  spring  of  1880  two  brick  masons,  Morgan 
and  Brown,  stopped  at  our  quarters  in  Ysleta  on 
their  way  from  Fort  Craig,  New  Mexico,  to  San 
Antonio,  Texas.  They  had  heard  that  some  freight 
wagons  at  San  Elizario  would  soon  return  to  San 
Antonio  and  were  anxious  to  travel  back  with  them. 
These  men  spent  two  or  three  days  in  the  ranger 
camp  and  seemed  very  nice  chaps  and  pleasant  talk- 
ers. One  of  them,  Mr.  Morgan,  owned  one  of  the 
finest  pistols  I  ever  saw.  It  was  pearl  handled  and 
silver  mounted.  Our  boys  tried  to  trade  for  it,  but 
Morgan  would  not  part  with  the  weapon. 

After  the  two  men  had  been  gone  from  our  camp 
three  or  four  days  word  was  brought  to  Lieutenant 
Baylor  that  two  men  had  been  found  dead  near 
San  Elizario.  The  lieu  tenant  sent  me  with  a  detail 
of  three  rangers  to  investigate.  At  San  Elizario 
we  learned  that  the  dead  men  were  at  Collins*  sheep 
ranch,  four  miles  from  town.  On  arriving  there 
we  found,  to  our  surprise  and  horror,  that  the  dead 

246 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

men  were  Morgan  and  Brown,  who  had  left  our 
camp  hale  and  hearty  just  a  few  days  before.  It 
was  surmised  that  the  men  had  camped  for  the 
night  at  the  sheep  ranch  and  had  been  beaten  to 
death  with  heavy  mesquite  sticks.  They  had  been 
dead  two  or  three  days  and  were  stripped  of  their 
clothing,  their  bodies  being  partly  eaten  by  coyotes. 

On  repairing  to  his  sheep  ranch  Mr.  Collins  found 
the  dead  bodies  of  Morgan  and  Brown,  his  shepherds 
gone  and  his  flocks  scattered  over  the  country.  Mr. 
Collins  gave  the  herders'  names  as  Santiago  Skevill 
and  Manuel  Moleno.  After  beating  out  the  brains 
of  their  unfortunate  victims  the  Mexicans  robbed 
the  bodies  and  lit  out  for  parts  unknown. 

As  the  murderers  were  on  foot  and  had  been 
gone  three  or  four  days,  I  found  it  very  difficult  to 
get  their  trail,  as  loose  stock  grazed  along  the 
bosques  and  partially  obliterated  it.  As  there 
was  a  number  of  settlements  and  several  little 
pueblos  along  the  river,  I  knew  if  I  did  not  follow 
the  Mexicans'  tracks  closely  I  could  never  teU  where 
they  had  gone,  so  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day 
trying  to  get  the  trail  from  camp.  We  were  com- 
pelled to  follow  it  on  foot,  leading  our  horses.  We 
would  sometimes  be  an  hour  trailing  a  mile. 

On  the  following  day  I  was  able  to  make  only 
ten  miles  on  the  trail,  but  I  had  discovered  the  gen- 

247 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

eral  direction.  I  slept  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio 
Grande  that  night,  and  next  morning  crossed  into 
Mexico,  and  found  that  the  murderers  were  going 
down  the  river  in  the  direction  of  Guadalupe.  I 
now  quit  the  trail  and  hurried  on  to  this  little  Mexi- 
can town.  Traveling  around  a  short  bend  in  the 
road  I  came  suddenly  into  the  main  street  of  Guad- 
alupe, and  almost  the  first  man  I  saw  standing  on 
the  street  was  a  Mexican  with  Morgan's  white- 
handled  pistol  strapped  on  him. 

I  left  two  of  my  men  to  watch  the  suspect  and 
myself  hurried  to  the  office  of  the  president  of 
Guadalupe,  made  known  my  mission  and  told  him 
I  had  seen  one  of  the  supposed  murderers  of  Mor- 
gan and  Brown  on  the  streets  of  his  city,  and  asked 
that  the  suspect  be  arrested.  The  official  treated 
me  very  cordially  and  soon  had  some  police  officers 
go  with  me.  They  found  the  two  suspected  Mexi- 
cans, arrested  them  and  placed  them  in  the  hous- 
gow.  The  prisoners  admitted  they  were  Collins' 
sheep  herders  and  said  their  names  were  Moleno 
and  Skevill  but,  of  course,  denied  knowing  any- 
thing about  the  death  of  Morgan  and  Brown.  All 
my  rangers  recognized  the  pistol  taken  from  the 
Mexican  as  the  weapon  owned  by  Mr.  Morgan.  The 
Mexican  officers  reported  to  the  alcalde  or  town 
president  that  the  suspects  had  been  arrested.  The 

248 


A  FAITHFUL  DOG  AND  A  MURDER 

latter  official  then  asked  me  if  I  had  any  papers 
for  these  men.  I  told  him  I  did  not,  for  at  the  time 
I  left  my  camp  at  Ysleta  we  did  not  know  the  na- 
ture of  the  murder  or  the  names  of  the  parties  in- 
criminated. I  declared  I  was  sure  the  men  arrested 
had  committed  the  murder  and  that  I  would  hurry 
back  to  Ysleta  and  have  the  proper  papers  issued 
for  the  prisoners'  extradition.  The  alcalde  prom- 
ised to  hold  the.  suspects  until  the  proper  formali- 
ties could  be  complied  with. 

From  Guadalupe  to  Ysleta  is  about  fifty  or  sixty 
miles.  I  felt  the  importance  of  the  case,  and  while 
I  and  my  men  were  foot-sore  and  weary,  we  rode  all 
night  long  over  a  sandy  road  and  reached  camp  at 
Ysleta  at  9  o'clock  the  following  morning.  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor  at  once  appeared  before  the  justice 
of  the  peace  at  Ysleta  and  filed  a  complaint  of  mur- 
der against  Manuel  Moleno  and  Santiago  Skevill, 
had  warrants  issued  for  their  arrest  and  himself 
hurried  to  El  Paso,  crossed  the  river  to  El  Paso 
del  Norte  and,  presenting  his  warrants  to  the  au- 
thorities, asked  that  the  murderers  be  held  until 
application  for  their  extradition  could  be  made. 

Within  a  week  we  learned,  much  to  our  disgust, 
that  the  two  murderers  had  been  liberated  and  told 
to  vamoose.  I  doubt  whether  the  warrants  were 


249 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

ever  sent  to  the  alcalde  at  Guadalupe.  A  more  cruel 
murder  than  that  of  Morgan  and  Brown  was  never 
committed  on  the  Rio  Grande,  yet  the  murderers 
went  scot-free.  This  miscarriage  of  justice  rankled 
in  my  memory  and  subsequently  it  was  to  lead  me 
to  take  the  law  into  my  own  hands  when  dealing 
with  another  Mexican  murderer. 


250 


CHAPTER  XV 
VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

As  soon  as  the  summer  rains  had  begun  in  1880 
and  green  grass  and  water  were  plentiful,  old  Vic- 
torio  again  began  his  raids.  He  appeared  at  Lake 
Guzman,  Old  Mexico,  then  traveled  east  to  Boracho 
Pass,  just  south  of  the  Rio  Grande.  This  old  chief 
was  then  reported  making  for  the  Eagle  Mountains 
in  Texas.  The  Mexican  Government  communicated 
this  information  to  General  Grierson  at  Fort  Davis, 
Texas,  and  Lieutenant  Baylor  was  asked  to  cooper- 
ate in  the  campaign  to  exterminate  the  wily  old 
Apache. 

General  Grierson,  on  receipt  of  this  information, 
at  once  put  his  cavalry  in  motion  for  Eagle  Springs, 
and  on  August  2,  1880,  Baylor  left  his  camp  at 
Ysleta  with  myself  and  thirteen  rangers  equipped 
for  a  two  weeks'  campaign.  On  August  4th  our 
little  band  reached  old  Fort  Quitman,  eighty  miles 
down  the  Rio  Grande  from  El  Paso,  and  Lieutenant 
Baylor  reported  to  General  Grierson  by  telegraph. 
His  message  was  interrupted,  for  the  Apaches  had 
cut  the  wires  between  Bass'  Canyon  and  Van  Horn's 
Well,  but  the  general  ordered  him  by  telegram  to 
scout  toward  Eagle  Springs  until  his  command 

251 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

should  meet  the  United  States  cavalry.  We  were 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  Indian  trails,  but  we 
saw  none  until  we  reached  Eighteen  Mile  water 
hole,  where  General  Grierson's  troops  had  had  an 
engagement  with  Victorio.  From  here  the  Indians 
went  south  and  around  Eagle  Mountains,  so  we 
continued  down  the  road  beyond  Bass'  Canyon  and 
found  the  Apaches  had  crossed  the  road,  torn  down 
the  telegraph  wire,  carried  off  a  long  piece  of  it, 
and  destroyed  the  insulators.  The  Indians  also 
dragged  some  of  the  telegraph  poles  two  or  three 
miles  and  left  them  on  their  trail.  The  signs  in- 
dicated they  had  from  one  hundred  and  eighty  to 
two  hundred  animals.  After  destroying  the  tele- 
graph the  raiders  finally  moved  north  toward  Car- 
rizo  Mountains. 

At  Van  Horn,  Lieutenant  Baylor  could  learn 
nothing  of  General  Grierson  or  his  movements.  We 
thereupon  took  the  general's  trail  leading  north 
and  overtook  him  in  camp  at  Rattlesnake  Springs, 
about  sixty-five  miles  distant.  Here  we  joined  Com- 
pany "K,"  Eighth  Cavalry,  and  Captain  Nolan's 
company,  the  Tenth.  The  cavalry  camped  at  Car- 
rizo  Springs  and  our  scouts  found  Victorio's  trail 
the  next  day  leading  southwest  toward  the  Apache 
Tanks.  We  left  camp  at  dusk  and  rode  all  night 
and  struck  the  redskins'  trail  next  morning  at  the 

252 


VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

stage  road  where  General  Grierson  had  fought.  The 
Indians  crossed  the  road,  but  afterwards  returned 
to  it  and  continued  toward  old  Fort  Quitman. 

The  overland  stage  company  kept  a  station  at 
this  abandoned  frontier  post,  situated  on  the  north 
bank  of  the  Rio  Grande,  eighty  or  ninety  miles  east 
of  El  Paso,  Texas.  On  August  9,  1880,  Ed  Walde, 
the  stage  driver,  started  out  on  his  drive  with  Gen- 
eral Byrnes  occupying  the  rear  seat  of  the  stage 
coach.  The  stage,  drawn  by  two  fast  running  little 
Spanish  mules,  passed  down  the  valley  and  entered 
the  canyon,  a  very  box-like  pass  with  high  moun- 
tains on  either  side, — an  ideal  place  for  an  Indian 
ambuscade.  Walde  had  driven  partly  through  this 
pass  when,  around  a  short  bend  in  the  road,  he 
came  suddenly  upon  old  Victorio  and  his  band  of 
one  hundred  warriors.  The  Indian  advance  guard 
fired  on  the  coach  immediately,  and  at  the  first 
volley  General  Byrnes  was  fatally  wounded,  a  large 
caliber  bullet  striking  him  in  the  breast  and  a  sec- 
ond passing  through  his  thigh.  Walde  turned  his 
team  as  quickly  as  he  could  and  made  a  lightning 
run  back  to  the  stage  stand  with  the  general's  body 
hanging  partly  out  of  the  stage.  The  Apaches  fol- 
lowed the  stage  for  four  or  five  miles  trying  to 
get  ahead  of  it,  but  the  little  mules  made  time  and 


253 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

beat  them  into  the  shelter  of  the  station's  adobe 
walls. 

It  was  a  miracle  that  Walde,  sitting  on  the  front 
seat,  escaped  without  a  scratch  and  both  of  the 
mules  unharmed.  At  old  Fort  Quitman  I  examined 
the  little  canvas-topped  stage  and  found  it  literally 
shot  to  pieces.  I  noticed  where  a  bullet  had  glanced 
along  the  white  canvas,  leaving  a  blue  mark  a  foot 
long  before  it  passed  through  the  top.  Three  of 
the  spokes  of  the  wheels  were  shot  in  two  and,  as 
well  as  I  remember,  there  were  fifteen  or  twenty 
bullet  marks  on  and  through  the  stage.  Lieutenant 
Baylor  and  his  rangers  buried  General  Byrnes  near 
old  Fort  Quitman  and  fired  a  volley  over  his  grave. 
Subsequently  Walde  joined  Lieutenant  Baylor's 
command  and  made  an  excellent  ranger.  It  was 
from  him  that  I  obtained  the  particulars  of  the 
fight  that  resulted  in  the  general's  death. 

En  route  the  Apaches  raided  Jesus  Gota's  ranch, 
killed  his  herder  and  drove  off  one  hundred  and 
forty  head  of  cattle.  In  crossing  the  river  forty  of 
the  animals  mired  in  the  quicksands.  The  heart- 
less Indians  thereupon  pounced  upon  the  unfortu- 
nate cattle  and  cut  chunks  of  flesh  out  of  their  liv- 
ing bodies.  Many  of  the  mutilated  animals  were 
still  alive  when  we  found  them.  The  redskins,  with 
a  freakish  sense  of  humor,  perpetrated  a  grim  joke 

254 


VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

on  the  murdered  herder.  He  was  rendering  out 
some  tallow  when  surprised  and  killed,  so  the  mur- 
derers rammed  his  head  into  the  melted  tallow  to 
make  him  a  greaser! 

After  the  fight  at  Quitman,  Victorio  and  his  band 
crossed  into  Mexico  and  there  found  temporary 
safety,  as  the  United  States  troops  were  not  per- 
mitted to  enter  that  country  in  pursuit  of  Indians, 
though  negotiations  to  permit  such  pursuit  of  In- 
dians were  even  then  pending  between  the  two 
governments.  Alone,  we  were  no  match  for  Vic- 
torio's  hundred  braves,  so  we  returned  to  our  camp. 

Victorio,  however,  did  not  remain  idle  in  Mexico. 
He  made  a  raid  on  Dr.  Saminiego's  San  Jose  ranch 
and  stole  one  hundred  and  seventeen  horses  and 
mules,  besides  killing  two  Mexican  herders.  Don 
Ramon  Arranda,  captain  of  the  Mexican  Volunteers, 
invited  the  rangers  to  Mexico  to  cooperate  with  him 
in  exterminating  the  Apaches,  so,  on  September  17, 
1880,  Lieutenant  Baylor  with  thirteen  rangers,  my- 
self included,  entered  Mexico  and  marched  to 
Tancas  Gantaresio,  Don  Arranda's  ranch.  Here  we 
were  joined  by  Mexican  volunteers  from  the  towns 
of  Guadalupe,  San  Ignacio,  Tres  Jacalas,  Paso  del 
Norte,  and  from  the  Texan  towns  of  Ysleta,  Socorro, 
and  San  Elizario,  until  our  combined  force  num- 
bered over  a  hundred  men. 

255 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

On  the  night  of  the  19th  we  crossed  an  Indian 
trail  south  of  the  Rancheria  Mountains,  but  could 
not  tell  the  number  of  redskins  in  the  party,  as 
it  was  then  dark  and  the  trail  damaged  by  rain. 
The  same  night  we  saw  Indian  signal  fires  to  the 
east  of  the  Arranda  ranch.  Next  morning,  with  a 
detail  of  five  rangers  and  ten  Mexican  volunteers, 
I  scouted  out  in  the  direction  of  the  fires  but  did 
not  have  time  to  reach  the  sign,  as  I  was  ordered 
to  take  and  hold  the  Rancheria  Mountains  before 
old  Victorio  and  his  band  reached  them. 

At  Lucero,  the  first  stage  stand,  the  Apaches  were 
reported  within  a  league  of  Garrizal.  We  made  a 
night  march  with  our  rangers  and  seventy-three 
volunteers,  but  found  the  Indians  had  left,  and,  as 
a  heavy  rain  had  put  out  the  trail,  we  struck  east 
toward  El  Copra  Mountains.  Here  we  again  picked 
up  the  trail  and,  following  it  until  night,  we  found 
a  few  loose  horses  of  Saminiego's.  The  marauders 
now  went  west  toward  some  tanks  and  we  returned 
to  Gandelario,  where  Victorio's  entire  band  had 
crossed  the  Chihuahua  stage  road.  Thence  we 
marched  back  to  San  Jose  and  went  into  camp  to 
await  the  arrival  of  General  Joaquin  Terrasas. 

The  Mexican  general  made  his  appearance  on  the 
3rd  day  of  October  with  two  hundred  cavalry  and 
one  hundred  infantry.  This  general,  a  member  of 

256 


VIGTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

a  well  known  family  of  Chihuahua,  was  more  than 
six  feet  in  height,  very  dark  and  an  inveterate 
smoker  of  cigarettes.  He  used  four  milk  white 
horses,  riding  one  while  his  aides  led  three.  His 
cavalry,  well  armed  with  Remington  pistols  and 
carbines,  was  nicely  uniformed  and  mounted  on 
dark  colored  animals  of  even  size.  The  infantry 
were  Indians  from  the  interior  of  Mexico.  These 
foot  soldiers  wore  rawhide  sandals  on  their  feet  and 
were  armed  with  Remington  muskets.  Each  sol- 
dier carried  two  cartridge  belts,  containing  one  hun- 
dred rounds  of  ammunition.  I  was  impressed  with 
the  little  baggage  and  rations  these  infantrymen 
carried.  On  the  march  each  man  had  a  little  can- 
vas bag  that  held  about  one  quart  of  ground  parched 
corn,  sweetened  with  a  little  sugar — and  a  table- 
spoonful  of  this  mixture  stirred  in  a  pint  cup  of 
water  made  a  good  meal.  Of  course  when  in  a 
cattle  country  plenty  of  beef  was  furnished  them, 
but  when  on  the  march  they  had  only  this  little 
bag  of  corn.  This  lack  of  baggage  and  rations  en- 
abled them  to  move  quickly  and  promptly.  This 
light  infantry  had  no  trouble  at  all  in  keeping  up 
with  the  cavalry  on  the  march  and  in  a  rough  coun- 
try they  could  move  faster  than  the  horsemen. 

With  General  Terrasas'  three  hundred  soldiers 
and  our  hundred  volunteers  we  could  bring  to  bear 

257 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

against  Victorio  about  four  hundred  men.  From 
San  Jose  the  combined  command  marched  to  Rebo- 
sadero  Springs,  twenty  miles  south  of  El  Caparo, 
on  the  new  Chihuahua  stage  road.  There  we  rested 
two  days  and  then  marched  forty  miles  to  Boracho 
Pass,  where  the  Apaches  had  camped  after  killing 
General  Byrnes  and  stealing  Jesus  Cota's  stock. 
We  crossed  the  Indians'  trail  tv/enty  miles  west  of 
the  pass  and  formed  our  line  of  battle,  as  we  ex- 
pected the  enemy  was  camped  at  some  tanks  there. 
He  did  not  appear,  so  we  camped  at  the  pass  to 
await  supplies. 

When  the  supply  wagons  arrived,  General  Ter- 
rasas  sent  an  orderly  to  Lieutenant  Baylor  and  in- 
vited him  to  send  his  men  to  draw  ten  days'  rations. 
While  I  was  standing  in  my  shirtsleeves  near  the 
wagon  one  of  the  Mexican  soldiers  stole  from  my 
belt  a  fine  hunting  knife  that  I  had  carried  ten 
thousand  miles  over  the  frontier.  I  discovered  the 
loss  almost  immediately  and  reported  it  to  Lieu- 
tenant Baylor,  who,  in  turn,  mentioned  it  to  Gen- 
eral Terrasas.  The  Mexican  general  at  once  had 
his  captains  form  their  respective  companies  and 
had  every  soldier  in  camp  searched,  but  the  knife 
was  not  found.  The  thief  had  probably  hidden  it 
in  the  grass.  The  Mexican  volunteers  remained 
with  General  Terrasas  until  after  the  defeat  of  Vic- 

258 


VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

torio,  and  one  of  them  told  me  afterward  he  had 
seen  a  Mexican  soldier  scalping  Apaches  with  it. 
Just  one  year  later  an  orderly  of  General  Terrasas 
rode  into  the  ranger  camp  at  Ysleta  and  presented 
Lieutenant  Baylor,  then  a  captain,  with  the  miss- 
ing weapon  and  a  note  stating  that  Terrasas  was 
glad  to  return  it  and  to  report  that  the  thief  had 
been  punished. 

While  at  Boracho  we  were  joined  by  Lieutenant 
Shaffer,  the  Twenty-third  United  States  Cavalry 
(negroes),  Lieutenant  Manney,  Captain  Parker  and 
sixty-five  Apache  scouts.  These  latter  were  Geron- 
imo's  Chiricauhaus,  who  later  quit  their  reserva- 
tion and  wrought  such  death  and  destruction  in 
Arizona,  New  Mexico,  and  Old  Mexico.  From  the 
first  General  Terrasas  viewed  these  Indian  allies 
with  distrust,  and  as  soon  as  we  had  scouted  south- 
east from  Boracho  to  Los  Pinos  Mountains,  about 
seventy-five  miles  distant,  and  learned  that  Vic- 
torio's  trail  turned  southwest  toward  Chihuahua, 
General  Terrasas  called  Captain  Parker,  Lieuten- 
ants Baylor,  Shaffer  and  Manney  to  his  camp  and 
informed  them  that,  as  the  trail  had  taken  a  turn 
back  into  the  state  of  Chihuahua  and  was  leading 
them  away  from  their  homes,  he  thought  it  best  for 
the  Americans  to  return  to  the  United  States.  I  was 
present  at  this  conference  and  I  at  once  saw  my 

259 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

chance  for  a  scrap  with  old  Victorio  go  glimmering. 
But  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  obey  orders,  pack 
up  and  vamoose. 

While  on  scouts  after  Victorio's  band  I  met  many 
United  States  officers,  and  often  around  the  camp 
fire  discussed  this  old  chief.  The  soldiers  all  agreed 
that  for  an  ignorant  Indian  Victorio  displayed  great 
military  genius,  and  Major  McGonnigal  declared, 
with  the  single  exception  of  Chief  Crazy-horse  of 
the  Sioux,  he  considered  Victorio  the  greatest  In- 
dian general  that  ever  appeared  on  the  American 
continent.  In  following  this  wily  old  Apache  Napo- 
leon I  examined  twenty-five  or  more  of  his  camps. 
Victorio  was  very  particular  about  locating  them 
strategically,  and  his  parapets  were  most  skillfully 
arranged  and  built.  If  he  remained  only  an  hour 
in  camp  he  had  these  defenses  thrown  up.  He  had 
fought  in  over  two  hundred  engagements,  but  his 
last  fight  was  now  very  close  at  hand. 

The  very  next  morning  after  the  United  States 
troops,  the  Apache  scouts  and  the  Texas  rangers 
turned  homeward  General  Terrasas'  scouts  reported 
to  him  that  Victorio  with  his  entire  band  of  fol- 
lowers was  camped  at  Tres  Castilos,  a  small  group 
of  hills  about  twenty-five  miles  southwest  of  the 
Los  Pinos  Mountains.  General  Terrasas  at  once 
set  his  column  in  motion  for  that  place.  Captives 

280 


VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

afterward  declared  that  Victorious  spies  reported  the 
presence  of  the  Mexican  cavalry  early  in  the  day 
and  thereafter  kept  him  informed  hour  by  hour  as 
to  the  movements  of  the  approaching  enemy. 

Victorio  had  just  sent  his  war  chief,  Nana,  and 
fifty  of  his  best  young  warriors  away  on  a  raid,  so 
he  had  left  in  his  camp  just  an  even  hundred  braves, 
some  of  them  very  old  men.  He  also  had  ninety- 
seven  women  and  children  and  about  five  hundred 
head  of  horses  and  mules,  yet  the  remarkable  old 
Indian  made  no  move  to  escape.  By  nightfall  Gen- 
eral Terrasas  drew  up  near  the  Apache  camp,  sur- 
rounded the  three  hills  as  best  he  could  and  waited 
until  morning  before  assaulting  the  enemy.  During 
the  night  twelve  of  Victorio's  warriors,  with  four 
women  and  four  children,  deserted  the  old  chief 
and  made  their  way  back  to  the  Eagle  Mountains 
in  Texas.  Here  they  committed  many  depredations 
until  exterminated  three  months  later  in  the  Diablo 
Mountains  by  Lieutenants  Baylor  and  Nevill. 

Early  the  following  morning  Victorio  mounted  a 
white  horse  and,  in  making  some  disposition  of  his 
braves  to  meet  the  expected  onset  of  the  enemy 
forces,  exposed  himself  unnecessarily.  The  Mexi- 
cans fired  on  him  at  long  range  and  two  bullets 
pierced  his  body.  He  fell  from  his  horse  dead, — 
a  good  Indian  at  last. 

261 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

The  loss  of  Victorio  and  the  absence  of  Nana  de- 
moralized the  Apaches,  and  a  vigorous  assault  by 
Terrasas  and  his  army  resulted  in  a  complete  vic- 
tory for  the  Mexicans.  Eighty-seven  Indian  war- 
riors were  killed,  while  eighty-nine  squaws  and 
their  children  were  captured  with  a  loss  of  only 
two  men  killed  and  a  few  wounded.  This  victory 
covered  General  Terrasas  with  glory.  The  Mexican 
Government  never  ceased  to  shower  honors  upon 
him  and  gave  him  many  thousands  of  acres  of  land 
in  the  state  of  Chihuahua.  The  general  was  so 
elated  over  the  outcome  of  the  battle  that  he  sent 
a  courier  on  a  fast  horse  to  overtake  Lieutenant 
Baylor  and  report  the  good  news.  The  messenger 
caught  us  in  camp  near  old  Fort  Quitman.  Every 
ranger  in  the  scout  felt  thoroughly  disgusted  and 
disappointed  at  missing  the  great  fight  by  only  two 
days  after  being  with  General  Terrasas  nearly  a 
month. 

The  captured  women  and  children  were  sent 
south  of  Mexico  City  into  a  climate  perfectly  un- 
natural to  them.  Here  they  all  died  in  a  few  years. 
When  Nana  heard  of  the  death  of  Victorio  and 
the  capture  of  the  squaws  and  children  he  fled  with 
his  fifty  warriors  to  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains 
in  the  State  of  Sonora,  Mexico.  There  he  joined 
forces  with  old  Geronimo  and  massacred  more 

262 


VICTORIO  BECOMES  A  GOOD  INDIAN 

people  than  any  small  band  of  Indians  in  the  world. 
To  avenge  himself  on  Terrasas  for  killing  his  friends 
and  carrying  away  their  wives  and  children,  Nana 
and  his  band  killed  more  than  two  hundred  Mexi- 
cans before  joining  Gerommo.  Nana,  with  his  new 
chief,  surrendered  to  General  Lawton  in  1886  and, 
I  believe,  was  carried  away  by  our  government  to 
Florida,  where  he  at  last  died. 

On  our  return  to  camp  at  Ysleta  a  commission  as 
captain  was  waiting  Lieutenant  Baylor,  since  Gap- 
tain  Neal  Goldwell  had  been  named  quartermaster 
of  the  battalion,  his  company  disbanded  and  its 
letter,  "A,"  given  to  our  company. 

Though  we  missed  the  fight  with  Victorio  it  was 
not  long  before  we  were  called  upon  to  scout  after 
the  band  of  twelve  warriors  that  had  deserted  the 
old  chief  on  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Tres 
Castilos.  However,  we  had  first  to  clean  up  our 
company,  for  many  undesirable  recruits  had  seeped 
into  it.  This  accomplished,  we  were  ready  to  re- 
sume our  Indian  warfare. 


263 


CHAPTER  XVI 
SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

In  the  early  fall  of  1880  two  well  mounted  and 
well  armed  men  appeared  at  the  ranger  camp  at 
Ysleta  and  applied  to  Captain  Baylor  for  enlistment 
in  his  company.  After  questioning  the  applicants 
at  some  length  the  captain  accepted  them  and  swore 
them  into  the  service.  One  gave  his  name  as  John 
(Red)  Holcomb  and  the  other  as  James  Stallings. 
Unknown  to  us,  both  these  men  were  outlaws  and 
joined  the  rangers  solely  to  learn  of  their  strength 
and  their  methods  of  operations.  Holcomb  was  a 
San  Simone  Valley,  Arizona,  rustler  and  was  living 
under  an  assumed  name.  Stallings,  though  he  went 
by  his  true  name,  had  shot  a  man  in  Hamilton 
County,  Texas,  and  was  under  indictment  for  as- 
sault to  kill. 

These  two  recruits  came  into  the  service  just 
before  we  started  on  our  fall  campaign  into  Mexico 
after  old  Victorio  and  were  with  us  on  that  long 
scout.  Although  one  was  from  Texas  and  the  other 
from  Arizona,  the  two  chummed  together  and  were 
evidently  in  each  other's  confidence.  Stallings  had 
not  been  long  in  the  company  before  he  showed 
himself  a  trouble  maker. 

264 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

As  orderly  sergeant  it  was  my  duty  to  keep  a 
roster  of  the  company.  Beginning  at  the  top  of  the 
list  and  reading  off  the  names  in  rotation,  I  called 
out  each  morning  the  guard  for  the  day.  We  had 
in  the  company  a  Mexican,  Juan  Garcia,  who  had 
always  lived  in  the  Rio  Grande  country,  and  Gap- 
tain  Baylor  had  enlisted  him  as  a  ranger  that  he 
might  use  him  as  a  guide,  for  Garcia  was  familiar 
with  much  of  the  country  over  which  we  were 
called  upon  to  scout.  It  so  happened  that  Jim 
S tailings  and  Garcia  were  detailed  on  the  same 
guard  one  day.  This  greatly  offended  Stallings, 
and  he  declared  to  some  of  the  boys  that  I  had 
detailed  him  on  guard  with  a  Mexican  just  to  humil- 
iate him  and  he  was  going  to  give  me  a  d — n  good 
whipping.  The  boys  advised  him  he  had  better  not 
attempt  it.  I  could  see  that  Stallings  was  sullen, 
but  it  was  not  until  months  afterward  that  I  learned 
the  cause. 

After  our  return  from  our  month's  scout  in  Mex- 
ico, Captain  Baylor  received  a  new  fugitive  list 
from  the  Adjutant-General,  and  in  looking  over  its 
pages  my  eyes  fell  on  the  list  of  fugitives  from  Ham- 
ilton County,  Texas.  Almost  the  first  name  thereon 
was  that  of  James  Stallings  with  his  age  and  de- 
scription. I  notified  Captain  Baylor  that  Stallings 
was  a  fugitive  from  justice.  Baylor  asked  me  what 

265 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

S tailings  had  been  indicted  for  and  I  replied  for 
assault  to  kill. 

"Well,  maybe  the  darned  fellow  needed  killing," 
replied  the  captain.  "Stallings  looks  like  a  good 
ranger  and  I  need  him." 

Not  many  days  after  this  I  heard  loud  cursing 
in  our  quarters  and  went  to  investigate.  I  found 
Stallings  with  a  cocked  pistol  in  his  hand  standing 
over  the  bed  of  a  ranger  named  Tom  Landers,  curs- 
ing him  out.  I  could  see  Stallings  had  been  drink- 
ing and  finally  persuaded  him  to  put  up  his  pistol 
and  go  to  bed.  The  next  morning  I  informed  Gap- 
tain  Baylor  of  the  incident,  and  suggested  that  if 
we  did  not  do  something  with  Stallings  he  would 
probably  kill  someone.  The  captain  did  not  seem 
inclined  to  take  that  view.  In  fact,  I  rather  believed 
Gaptain  Baylor  liked  a  man  that  was  somewhat 
"on  the  prod,"  as  the  cowboys  are  wont  to  say  of 
a  fellow  or  a  cow  that  wants  to  fight. 

John  Holcomb  soon  found  out  as  much  about  the 
rangers  as  he  desired  and,  fearing  he  might  be  dis- 
covered, asked  Captain  Baylor  for  a  discharge. 
After  obtaining  it  he  took  up  his  abode  in  El  Paso. 

Not  long  afterwards  one  morning  at  breakfast, 
while  the  twenty  rangers  were  seated  at  one  long 
dining  table,  Jim  Stallings  had  a  dispute  with  John 
Thomas,  who  was  seated  on  the  opposite  side  of 

266 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

the  table  and,  quick  as  a  flash,  struck  Thomas  in 
the  face  with  a  tin  cup  of  boiling  coffee.  Both  men 
rose  to  their  feet  and  pulled  their  pistols,  but  be- 
fore they  could  stage  a  shooting  match  in  the  place 
the  boys  on  either  side  grabbed  them. 

I  at  once  went  to  Captain  Baylor  and  told  Mm 
that  something  had  to  be  done.  He  seemed  to  be 
thoroughly  aroused  now  and  said,  "Sergeant,  you 
arrest  Stallings,  disarm  and  shackle  him.  I'll  send 
him  back  where  he  belongs." 

I  carried  out  the  order  promptly  and  Captain 
Baylor  at  once  wrote  to  the  sheriff  of  Hamilton 
County  to  come  for  the  prisoner.  Hamilton  County 
is  seven  hundred  miles  by  stage  from  El  Paso  and 
it  took  a  week  to  get  a  letter  through.  There  was 
no  jail  at  Ysleta  at  that  time,  so  we  were  compelled 
to  hold  this  dangerous  man  in  our  camp. 

Stallings  was  shrewd  and  a  keen  judge  of  human 
nature.  We  would  sometimes  remove  the  shackles 
from  him  that  he  might  get  a  little  exercise. 
Finally  it  came  the  turn  of  a  ranger  named  Potter 
to  guard  the  prisoner.  Potter  had  drifted  into  the 
country  from  somewhere  up  north,  and  Captain 
Baylor  had  enlisted  him.  He  knew  very  little  about 
riding  and  much  less  about  handling  firearms. 
Stallings  asked  Potter  to  go  with  him  out  into  the 
corral.  This  enclosure  was  built  of  adobe  and 

267 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

about  five  feet  high.  It  was  nearly  dark  and  the 
prisoner  walked  leisurely  up  to  the  fence  with 
Potter  following  close  behind  with  Winchester  in 
hand.  All  of  a  sudden  S tailings  turned  a  hand- 
spring over  the  fence  and  hit  the  ground  on  the 
other  side  in  a  run.  Potter  began  firing  at  the 
fugitive,  which  brought  out  all  the  boys  in  camp. 
Stallings  had  only  about  one  hundred  yards  to  run 
to  reach  the  Rio  Grande,  and  before  anything  could 
be  done  he  was  safe  in  Mexico.  He  yelled  a  good- 
bye to  the  boys  as  he  struck  the  bank  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  river.  Captain  Baylor  was  furious 
over  the  prisoner's  escape  and  promptly  fired  Potter 
from  the  service  and  reprimanded  me  for  not  keep- 
ing Stallings  shackled  all  the  time. 

Though  wre  had  lost  the  man  we  had  his  horse, 
saddle,  bridle  and  arms.  Stallings  at  once  went  to 
Juarez  and  John  Holcomb  met  him  there.  The  fugi- 
tive gave  his  pal  an  order  on  Captain  Baylor  for 
his  horse,  saddle,  and  pistol,  and  Holcomb  had  the 
gall  to  come  to  Ysleta  and  present  this  order.  He 
reached  our  camp  at  noon  while  the  horses  were 
all  in  the  corral.  At  the  moment  of  his  arrival  I 
happened  to  be  at  Captain  Baylor's  home.  Private 
George  Lloyd  stepped  over  to  the  captain's  and  said 
to  me,  "Sergeant,  John  Holcomb  is  over  in  camp 


268 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

with  an  order  from  Jim  Stallings  for  his  horse 
and  outfit." 

"Gillett,  you  go  and  arrest  Holcomb  and  put  him 
in  irons  and  I'll  see  if  I  can  find  where  he  is  wanted," 
ordered  Captain  Baylor,  who  heard  what  Lloyd  said. 

Holcomb,  seeing  Lloyd  go  into  Captain  Baylor's, 
got  suspicious,  jumped  on  his  horse  and  left  for 
El  Paso  in  a  gallop.  I  detailed  three  men  to  ac- 
company me  to  capture  Holcomb,  but  by  the  time 
we  saddled  our  horses  and  armed  ourselves  the 
fugitive  was  out  of  sight.  We  hit  the  road  running 
and  after  traveling  two  or  three  miles  and  inquiring 
of  people  we  met  in  the  road  I  became  convinced 
that  Holcomb  had  quit  the  road  soon  after  leaving 
our  camp  and  was  striking  for  Mexico.  I  turned 
back  in  the  direction  of  camp  and  followed  the  bank 
of  the  river. 

We  had  probably  traveled  a  mile  on  our  way 
home  when  we  discovered  Holcomb  coming  up  the 
river  toward  us.  He  was  about  four  hundred  yards 
away  and  discovered  us  about  the  same  time. 
Turning  his  horse  quickly  he  made  a  dash  for  the 
river.  Where  he  struck  it  the  bank  was  ten  feet 
high,  but  he  never  hesitated,  and  both  man  and 
horse  went  head  first  into  the  Rio  Grande.  The 
three  men  I  had  with  me  outran  me  and  when  they 
reached  the  point  where  the  fugitive  had  entered 

269 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  water  they  saw  him  swimming  rapidly  to  the 
Mexican  side  and  began  firing  at  him.  I  ran  up 
and  ordered  them  to  cease,  telling  them  not  to  kill 
Holcomb,  as  he  was  in  swimming  water  and  help- 
less. Just  at  this  moment  the  swimmer  struck  shal- 
low water  and  I  ordered  him  to  come  back  or  I 
would  shoot  him. 

"I'll  come  if  you  won't  let  the  boys  kill  me,"  he 
called  back. 

I  told  him  to  hit  swimming  water  quickly,  which 
he  did,  and  swam  back  to  the  American  side.  He 
was  in  his  shirtsleeves  and  with  his  hat  gone.  His 
horse,  meantime,  had  swam  back  to  our  side  of 
the  river. 

We  all  mounted  and  started  back  to  camp,  two 
of  the  rangers  riding  in  front  with  Holcomb.  I  had 
not  searched  the  prisoner  because  he  was  in  his 
shirtsleeves.  As  we  rode  along  Holcomb  reached 
into  his  shirt  bosom  and  pulled  out  an  old  .45  pistol 
and  handed  it  to  one  of  the  boys,  saying,  "Don't 
tell  the  sergeant  I  had  this."  The  rangers  at  camp 
gave  the  prisoner  some  dry  clothes  and  dinner, 
then  put  him  in  chains  and  under  guard. 

Captain  Baylor  went  on  to  El  Paso,  crossed  the 
river  to  Juarez  and  had  Stallings  arrested.  In  two 
days  we  had  him  back  in  camp  and  chained  to 
Holcomb.  The  captain  then  wrote  to  Bell  County, 

270 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

Texas,  as  he  had  heard  John  Holcomb  was  wanted 
there  for  murder.  Holcomb  had  a  good  horse  and 
he  gave  it  to  a  lawyer  in  El  Paso  to  get  him  out 
of  his  trouble.  Of  course  we  had  no  warrant  for 
Holcomb's  arrest  and  Judge  Blacker  ordered  our 
prisoner  brought  before  him.  The  county  attorney 
made  every  effort  to  have  Holcomb  held,  while  his 
lawyer  tried  his  best  to  have  the  suspect  released. 
The  judge  finally  said  he  would  hold  Holcomb  for 
one  week  and  unless  the  officers  found  some  evi- 
dence against  him  during  that  time  he  would  order 
the  prisoner  freed.  It  was  nearly  dark  before  we 
left  El  Paso  on  our  return  to  Ysleta,  twelve  miles 
distant.  Holcomb  had,  in  some  manner,  gotten  two 
or  three  drinks  of  whisky  and  was  feeling  the  liquor. 
I  had  one  ranger  with  me  leading  the  prisoner's 
horse.  The  road  back  to  camp  followed  the  river 
rather  closely  and  the  country  was  very  brushy  all 
the  way. 

As  soon  as  we  had  gotten  out  of  El  Paso  Holcomb 
sat  sidewise  on  his  horse,  holding  the  pommel  of 
his  saddle  with  one  hand  and  the  cantle  with  the 
other,  all  the  while  facing  toward  Mexico.  I  ordered 
him  to  sit  straight  in  his  saddle,  but  he  refused. 
We  were  riding  in  a  gallop  and  I  believe  he  intended 
to  jump  from  his  horse  and  try  to  escape  in  the 
brush.  I  drew  my  pistol  and  hid  it  behind  my  leg. 

271 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Although  Holcomb  had  the  cape  of  his  overcoat 
thrown  over  his  head  he  discovered  I  had  a  pistol 
in  my  hand  and  began  a  tirade  of  abuse,  declaring 
I  had  a  cocked  gun  in  my  hand  and  was  aching  for 
a  chance  to  kill  him.  I  told  him  I  believed  from 
his  actions  he  was  watching  for  a  chance  to  quit 
his  horse  and  escape,  and  that  I  was  prepared  to 
prevent  such  a  move.  We  reached  camp  safely  and 
chained  Holcomb  to  Stallings. 

These  boys,  although  prisoners,  were  full  of  life, 
and  laughed  and  talked  all  the  time.  Holcomb 
played  the  violin  quite  well.  We  held  the  two  sus- 
pects several  days  and  finally  one  night  one  of  the 
rangers  came  to  my  room  and  said,  "Sergeant,  I 
believe  there  is  something  wrong  with  those  pris- 
oners. They  are  holloaing,  singing  and  playing  the 
fiddle." 

I  was  busy  on  my  monthly  reports  and  told  him 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  and  before  I  retired  I  would 
come  and  examine  the  prisoners.  On  examination 
I  found  that  while  Holcomb  played  the  violin  Stall- 
ings  had  sawn  their  shackles  loose.  They  laughed 
when  I  discovered  this  and  said  that  when  the  boys 
had  all  gone  to  bed  they  intended  to  throw  the  pack 
saddle,  which  they  used  for  a  seat,  on  the  guard's 
head  and  escape.  We  could  get  no  evidence  against 
John  Holcomb  and  the  judge  ordered  his  release. 

272 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

While  a  prisoner  Holcomb  swore  vengeance 
against  myself  and  Prosecutor  Neal.  Mr.  Neal 
heard  of  this  threat,  met  Holcomb  on  the  streets 
of  El  Paso  afterward  and,  jerking  a  small  Derringer 
pistol  from  his  pocket,  shot  Holcomb  in  the  belly. 
Holcomb  fell  and  begged  for  his  life.  He  was  not 
badly  hurt,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  well  he  quit  El 
Paso,  went  to  Deming,  New  Mexico,  where  he  stole 
a  bunch  of  cattle.  He  drove  the  stolen  herd  to  the 
mining  camp  of  Lake  Valley  and  there  sold  them. 
While  he  was  in  a  saloon  drinking  and  playing  his 
fiddle  the  owner  of  the  cattle  appeared  with  a  shot- 
gun and  filled  the  thief  full  of  buckshot.  As  he 
fell  Holcomb  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "Oh,  boys, 
they  have  got  me  at  last." 

Jim  Stallings  was  sent  to  Fort  Davis  and  placed 
in  the  jail  there,  from  which  he  and  half  a  dozen 
other  criminals  made  their  escape. 

A  man  named  John  Scott  came  to  Captain  Baylor, 
told  a  hard  luck  story,  and  asked  to  be  taken  into 
the  service.  Captain  Baylor  enlisted  the  applicant 
and  fitted  him  out  with  horse,  saddle,  bridle  and 
armed  him  with  gun  and  pistol,  himself  standing 
good  for  the  entire  equipment.  Scott  had  not  been 
in  the  service  two  months  before  he  deserted.  I 
was  ordered  to  take  two  men,  follow  him  and  bring 
him  back.  I  overtook  Scott  up  in  the  Canutillo, 

273 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

near  the  line  of  New  Mexico,  and  before  I  even 
ordered  him  to  halt,  he  jumped  down,  sought  refuge 
behind  his  horse  and  opened  fire  on  us  with  his 
Winchester.  We  returned  the  fire  and  killed  his 
horse.  He  then  threw  down  his  gun  and  surren- 
dered. We  found  the  deserter  had  stopped  in  El 
Paso  and  gotten  a  bottle  of  whisky.  He  was  rather 
drunk  when  overtaken,  otherwise  he  probably 
would  not  have  made  fight  against  three  rangers. 
Captain  Baylor  took  Scott's  saddle,  gun  and  six- 
shooter  away  from  him  and  kicked  him  out  of 
camp,  but  was  compelled  to  pay  $75  for  the  horse 
that  was  killed. 

Another  man,  Chipman,  deserted  our  company 
and  stole  a  bunch  of  horses  from  some  Mexicans 
down  at  Socorro.  The  Mexicans  followed  the  trail 
out  in  the  direction  of  Hueco  Tanks,  where  it  turned 
west  and  crossed  the  high  range  of  mountains  west 
of  El  Paso.  The  pursuers  overtook  Chipman  with 
the  stolen  horses  just  on  the  line  of  New  Mexico. 
The  thief  put  up  a  fierce  fight  and  killed  two  Mexi- 
cans, but  was  himself  killed.  Captain  Baylor  had 
a  scout  following  the  deserter  but  the  Mexicans 
got  to  him  first  and  had  the  fight  before  our  men 
arrived.  However,  the  ranger  boys  buried  the  body 
of  Chipman  where  it  fell.  This  chap  had  made  a 
very  good  ranger  and  we  all  felt  shocked  when  we 

274 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

learned  he  had  stolen  seven  ponies  and  tried  to  get 
away  with  them  single-handed. 

Yet  another  San  Simone  Valley  rustler,  Jack 
Bond,  enlisted  in  the  company.  A  band  of  rustlers 
and  cow  thieves  were  operating  up  in  the  Canutillo, 
eighteen  miles  above  El  Paso,  about  the  time  he 
joined  the  command.  I  did  my  best  to  break  up 
this  band  and  made  scout  after  scout  up  the  river, 
but  without  success.  Finally  Captain  Baylor  learned 
that  Bond  and  another  ranger,  Len  Peterson,  were 
keeping  the  thieves  posted  as  to  the  rangers'  move- 
ments. The  captain  fired  these  two  men  out  of  the 
company  and  within  ten  days  I  had  captured  Frank 
Stevenson,  the  leader  of  the  Canutillo  gang,  and 
broken  up  the  nest  of  thieves.  Stevenson  was  later 
sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  fifteen  years.  Bond 
and  Peterson  went  to  El  Paso,  stole  Mayor  M.  C. 
Goffin's  fine  pair  of  carriage  horses  and  fled  to  New 
Mexico.  Subsequently  Bond  was  killed  at  Deming 
by  Deputy  Sheriff  Dan  Tucker  in  an  attempted 
arrest. 

Captain  Roberts,  Coldwell  or  Lieutenant  Reynolds 
would  never  have  let  such  a  bunch  of  crooks  get 
into  their  companies,  for  they  had  to  know  some- 
thing about  a  man  before  they  would  enlist  him. 
However,  there  was  some  excuse  for  Baylor  at  the 
time  he  was  on  the  Rio  Grande.  It  was  a  long  way 

275 


SIX  YFARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

from  the  center  of  population  and  good  men  were 
hard  to  find.  Then,  too,  it  looked  as  if  all  the  crim- 
inals in  Texas  had  fled  to  New  Mexico  and  Arizona, 
from  which  states  they  would  ease  back  into  the 
edge  of  Texas  and  join  the  rangers.  Captain  Bay- 
lor was  liberal  in  his  views  of  men:  they  all  looked 
good  to  him  until  proven  otherwise.  If  there  was 
a  vacancy  in  the  company  any  man  could  get  in. 
And  if  they  lacked  equipment  the  captain  would 
buy  the  newcomer  a  horse,  saddle,  and  arms  and 
then  deduct  the  cost  thereof  from  the  man's  first 
three  months'  pay.  However,  Baylor  had  generally 
to  pay  the  bill  himself.  The  captain  also  liked  to 
keep  his  company  recruited  to  the  limit  and  this 
made  enlistment  in  his  command  easy. 

In  all  the  years  I  was  with  Captain  Baylor  I  never 
knew  him  to  send  a  non-commissioned  officer  on  a 
scout  after  Indians.  He  always  commanded  in  per- 
son and  always  took  with  him  every  man  in  camp 
save  one,  who  was  left  to  guard  it,  for  he  liked  to 
be  as  strong  as  possible  on  the  battlefield. 

Captain  Baylor  never  took  much  interest  person- 
ally in  following  cattle  thieves,  horse  thieves,  mur- 
derers and  fugitives  from  justice.  He  left  that  al- 
most entirely  to  me.  Sometimes  we  would  have 
as  many  as  six  or  eight  criminals  chained  up  in 
camp  at  one  time,  but  the  captain  would  never  come 

276 


SOME  UNDESIRABLE  RECRUITS 

about  them,  for  he  could  not  bear  to  see  anyone  in 
trouble.  His  open,  friendly  personality  endeared 
Baylor  to  the  Mexicans  from  El  Paso  down  the  val- 
ley as  far  as  Quitman.  They  were  all  his  coin- 
padres  and  would  frequently  bring  him  venison, 
goat  meat  and  mutton.  Always  they  showed  him 
every  courtesy  in  their  power. 

Now,  having  freed  the  company  of  its  undesir- 
able recruits,  "we  were  once  more  a  homogeneous 
force  ready  and  anxious  to  perform  our  duty  in 
protecting  the  frontier  and  bringing  criminals  to 
justice.  Almost  as  soon  as  the  last  undesirable 
had  been  fired  from  Company  "A"  we  started  on 
the  scout  that  was  to  culminate  in  our  last  fight 
with  the  Apaches. 


277 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LAST  FIGHT  BETWEEN  RANGERS  AND 
APACHES 

Despite  General  Terrasas'  great  victory  at  Tres 
Castillos  as  recorded  in  a  preceding  chapter,  he 
did  not  entirely  destroy  all  the  Apaches  that  had 
been  with  old  Victorio.  Nana  and  fifty  warriors 
escaped  and  finally  joined  Geronimo  in  his  cam- 
paign of  murder  and  destruction.  On  the  night 
preceding  the  battle  in  which  Victorio  was  killed 
and  his  band  of  warriors  exterminated  twelve 
braves  with  four  squaws  and  four  children  deserted 
the  old  chief  and  made  their  way  to  those  rough 
mountains  that  fringe  the  Rio  Grande  in  the  vicinity 
of  Eagle  Springs.  At  once  this  band  of  twenty 
Indians  began  a  series  of  pillages  and  murders  that 
has  no  parallel  considering  the  small  size  of  the 
party. 

The  little  band  of  Apaches  soon  appeared  at  Paso 
Viego  and  began  their  depredations  by  an  attack 
on  Lieutenant  Mills  and  his  cavalry.  Paso  Viego 
is  a  gap  in  the  mountains  that  parallel  the  Rio 
Grande  from  Eagle  Mountains  on  the  west  to  Brites' 
ranch  on  the  east,  and  is  situated  ten  or  twelve 
miles  west  of  and  in  plain  view  of  the  present  little 

278 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

town  of  Valentine,  Texas,  on  the  G.,  H.  &  S.  A. 
Railroad.  The  tribe  of  Pueblo  Indians  has  lived 
at  the  old  town  of  Ysleta,  El  Paso  County,  Texas, 
for  more  than  three  hundred  years.  They  have 
always  been  friends  to  the  Americans  and  invet- 
erate enemies  to  the  Apaches.  It  was  customary, 
therefore,  for  the  United  States  troops  at  Fort  Davis 
to  employ  the  Pueblos  as  guides  during  the  Indian 
disturbances  along  the  border.  In  1881  Bernado 
and  Simon  Olgin,  two  brothers,  were  the  principal 
chiefs  of  this  tribe.  Bernado  was  the  elder  and 
looked  it.  Both  chiefs  dressed  in  the  usual  Indian 
fashion,  wore  moccasins,  buckskin  leggins  and  had 
their  long  black  hair  braided  and  hanging  down 
the  back.  Simon  was  a  very  handsome  Indian, 
and  he,  with  four  of  his  tribe — all  nephews  of  his, 
I  think — were  employed  by  General  Grierson  during 
the  troublesome  times  of  1880-1881. 

Simon  and  his  four  scouts  had  been  detailed  to 
make  scouts  down  on  the  Rio  Grande  with  Lieu- 
tenant Mills,  commander  of  the  Tenth  United  States 
Cavalry  (colored).  On  their  way  out  the  troops 
reached  Paso  Viego  early  in  the  evening,  and  after 
they  had  eaten  supper  Simon  Olgin  advised  the 
lieutenant  to  move  out  on  the  open  plains  three  or 
four  miles  north  of  the  pass  where  they  would  be 
safe  from  attack.  Olgin  declared  Paso  Viego  was 

279 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

a  favorite  camping  place  for  the  Indians  going  to 
and  returning  from  Mexico  because  of  the  fine 
water  and  good  grass.  He  stated  that  should  a 
band  of  redskins  appear  at  the  pass  during  the 
night  and  find  it  occupied  by  soldiers  they  would 
attack  at  daylight  and  probably  kill  some  of  the 
troopers. 

Lieutenant  Mills,  fresh  from  West  Point,  replied 
that  he  was  not  afraid  of  Indians  and  did  not  pro- 
pose to  move.  During  the  night  the  little  band  of 
twenty  Apaches  reached  the  pass,  just  as  Olgin  had 
prophesied,  and  hid  themselves  in  the  rocks.  The 
next  morning  the  soldiers  had  breakfast,  packed 
their  mules,  and  as  they  were  standing  by  their 
horses  ready  for  the  order  to  mount  a  sudden  fusil- 
lade of  bullets  was  fired  into  their  midst  at  short 
range.  Other  volleys  came  in  quick  succession.  At 
the  very  first  fire  that  grand  old  Indian,  Simon  Olgin, 
was  shot  down  and  killed,  as  were  five  or  six  of 
the  negro  cavalry.  The  remainder  of  the  company 
thereupon  fled,  but  the  four  Pueblo  scouts,  Olgin's 
nephews,  took  to  the  rocks  and  fought  until  they 
had  routed  the  Apaches  and  saved  the  bodies  of 
their  old  beloved  uncle  and  the  soldiers  from  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  attackers  to  be  mutilated. 

Repulsed  at  Paso  Viego  the  twenty  Apaches  next 
appeared  at  Bass'  Canyon,  a  gap  in  the  mountains 

280 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

on  the  overland  stage  road  about  twelve  or  fourteen 
miles  west  of  Van  Horn.  Here  the  redskins  way- 
laid an  immigrant  train  on  its  way  to  New  Mexico. 
At  the  very  first  fire  of  the  Indians  Mrs.  Graham, 
who  was  walking,  jumped  upon  the  tongue  of  the 
wagon  and  reached  for  a  Winchester,  but  was  shot 
and  killed.  A  man  named  Grant  was  killed  at  the 
same  time,  while  Mr.  Graham  had  his  thigh  broken. 
From  Bass'  Canyon  the  Indians  turned  south, 
crossed  around  the  east  end  of  the  Eagle  Mountains 
and  again  entered  Old  Mexico,  where  they  were 
for  a  time  lost  to  view. 

We  next  hear  of  this  band  at  Ojo  Calienta,  some 
hot  springs  on  the  Rio  Grande  southwest  from 
Eagle  Mountains.  A  captain  of  cavalry  with  some 
colored  troops  near  old  Fort  Quitman  detailed  seven 
men  and  instructed  the  sergeant  in  charge  to  scout 
down  the  river  as  far  east  as  Bosque  Bonita,  keep 
a  sharp  lookout  for  Indian  signs  and  report  back 
to  camp  in  one  week.  These  troopers  followed 
orders,  and  on  their  return  journey  camped  for  the 
night  at  Ojo  Calienta.  Next  morning  at  break  of 
day  the  soldiers  were  preparing  to  cook  breakfast 
when  the  Apaches  fell  upon  them  and  killed  all 
save  one  at  their  first  assault.  This  single  survivor 
made  his  escape  on  foot,  and  after  two  days  in  the 
mountains  without  food  finally  reached  the  soldier 

281 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

camp  and  reported  to  his  captain.  The  Indians 
evidently  located  the  soldier  scout  the  evening  be- 
fore but,  as  they  never  make  a  night  attack,  waited 
until  daylight  to  massacre  their  victims.  The  red- 
skins captured  all  the  soldiers'  equipment  and  bag- 
gage, including  seven  horses  and  two  pack  mules. 
They  pillaged  the  camp  and  took  everything  mov- 
able away  with  them.  Before  resuming  their  jour- 
ney the  Apaches  took  six  stake-pins  made  of  iron 
and  about  twenty  inches  long  that  were  used  by  the 
soldiers  to  drive  into  the  ground  as  stakes  to  which 
to  fasten  their  horses  and  drove  one  through  each 
soldier's  corpse,  pinning  it  firmly  to  the  earth.  The 
captured  stock  was  killed  and  eaten,  for  the  soldiers' 
animals  were  fat  while  most  of  the  ponies  and  little 
mules  of  the  Apaches  were  worn  out  by  constant 
use  in  the  mountains,  and  consequently  very  poor. 
This  band  was  not  heard  of  again  for  nearly  two 
months — until  the  warriors  set  upon  the  stage  at 
Quitman  Canyon  and  killed  the  driver,  Morgan,  and 
the  gambler,  Crenshaw,  a  passenger.  The  reports 
about  this  stage  robbery  and  murder  were  so  con- 
flicting and  the  impression  so  strong  that  the  driver 
and  the  passenger  had  themselves  robbed  the  stage 
and  made  Indian  signs  to  avert  suspicion  that  Gap- 
tain  Baylor  deemed  it  best  to  go  down  to  the  canyon 
and  investigate  for  himself.  Accordingly,  the  cap- 

282 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

tain  made  a  detail  of  fourteen  privates  and  one  cor- 
poral, and  with  ten  days'  rations  on  two  pack  mules 
left  Ysleta  on  January  16th  to  ascertain  if  possible 
whether  the  stage  had  been  robbed  and  the  driver 
and  passenger  killed  by  Indians  or  by  white  men, 
and  to  punish  the  robbers  if  they  could  be  caught. 
To  keep  down  disorder  and  violence  threatened  at 
El  Paso,  the  captain  left  me  and  a  detail  of  three 
men  in  our  camp  at  Ysleta. 

At  Quitman,  Captain  Baylor  learned  that  the 
trail  of  the  stage  robbers  bore  southwest  to  Ojo 
Calienta,  and  as  the  foothills  of  Quitman  Mountains 
are  very  rough,  he  went  down  the  north  bank  of 
the  Rio  Grande,  as  he  felt  quite  certain  he  would 
cut  signs  in  that  direction.  About  twenty-five  miles 
below  Quitman  he  struck  the  trail  of  a  freshly  shod 
mule,  two  barefooted  ponies  and  two  unshod  mules, 
and  within  fifty  yards  of  the  trail  he  found  the  kid 
glove  thought  to  have  been  Crenshaw's.  The  trail 
now  bore  down  the  river  and  crossed  into  Mexico, 
where  the  Indian  band  made  its  first  camp.  Cap- 
tain Baylor  followed,  and  the  next  day  found  the 
Apaches'  second  camp  near  the  foothills  of  the  Los 
Pinos  Mountains,  where  we  had  left  General  Ter- 
rasas  the  fall  before.  Here  all  doubts  about  the 
Indians  were  dispelled,  as  the  rangers  found  a  horse 
killed  with  the  meat  taken  as  food  and  a  pair  of 

283 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

old  moccasins.  Besides,  the  camp  was  selected  on 
a  high  bare  hill  after  the  custom  of  the  Indians. 
The  same  day  Captain  Baylor  found  another  camp 
and  a  dead  mule,  and  on  the  trail  discovered  a  boot- 
top  recognized  as  that  of  Morgan,  the  driver.  Here 
also  was  the  trail  of  some  fifteen  or  twenty  mules 
and  ponies,  quite  fresh,  coming  from  the  direction 
of  the  Candelario  Mountains  with  one  small  trail 
of  three  mules  going  toward  the  Rio  Grande.  The 
rangers  passed  through  some  very  rough,  deep 
canyons  and  camped  on  the  south  side  of  the  Rio 
Grande,  this  being  their  second  night  in  Mexico. 

Next  morning  the  trail  crossed  back  into  Texas. 
Going  toward  Major  Carpenter's  old  camp  above 
the  Bosque  Bonito  the  scouting  party  found  a  camp 
where  the  Indians  had  evidently  made  a  cache,  but 
Captain  Baylor  only  tarried  here  a  short  time  and 
followed  on  down  the  river  a  few  miles  when  he 
found  the  Apaches  had  struck  out  on  a  bee  line  for 
the  Eagle  Mountains.  The  captain  felt  some  hesi- 
tation about  crossing  the  plains  between  the  Eagle 
Mountains  and  the  Rio  Grande  in  the  daytime  for 
fear  of  being  seen  by  the  Indians,  but  as  the  trail 
was  several  days  old  he  took  the  risk  of  being  dis- 
covered. He  camped  within  three  or  four  miles 
of  the  mountains  and  at  daybreak  took  the  trail 
up  a  canyon  leading  into  the  peaks.  The  party 

284 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

came  suddenly  upon  an  Apache  camp  which  had 
been  hastily  deserted  that  morning,  for  the  Indians 
left  blankets,  quilts,  buckskins  and  many  other 
things  useful  to  them.  They  had  just  killed  and 
had  piled  up  in  camp  two  horses  and  a  mule,  the 
blood  of  which  had  been  caught  in  tin  vessels. 
One  mule's  tongue  was  stewing  over  a  fire  and 
everything  indicated  the  redskins  were  on  the  eve 
of  a  jolly  war  dance,  for  the  rangers  found  a  five- 
gallon  can  of  mescal  wine  and  a  horse  skin  sunk 
in  the  ground  that  contained  fifteen  or  twenty  gal- 
lons more.  Here  Captain  Baylor  found  the  mate 
to  Morgan's  boot-top  and  a  bag  made  from  the  legs 
of  the  passenger's  pantaloons,  besides  express  re- 
ceipts, postal  cards  and  other  articles  taken  from 
the  stage.  The  night  before  had  been  bitterly  cold 
and  the  ground  had  frozen  hard  as  flint  rock,  so 
the  rangers  could  not  get  the  trail,  though  they 
searched  the  mountains  in  every  direction,  and  the 
three  Pueblo  Indians,  Bernado  Olgin,  Domingo 
Olgin,  and  Aneseta  Duran,  looked  over  every  foot 
of  the  ground.  The  scouting  party  now  turned 
back  toward  Mexico  to  scout  back  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Eagle  Mountains  around  to  Eagle  Springs  in 
search  of  the  trail. 

At  Eagle  Springs,  as  good  luck  would  have  it, 
Captain  Baylor  learned  that  Lieutenant  Nevill  and 

285 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

nine  men  had  just  gone  toward  Quitman  to  look 
for  him.  As  soon  as  Lieutenant  Nevill  returned  to 
the  Springs  he  informed  Baylor  that  he  had  seen 
the  trail  six  miles  east  of  Eagle  Springs  and  that 
it  led  toward  the  Carrizo  Springs  or  Diablo  Moun- 
tains. 

Captain  Baylor's  rations  were  out  and  Lieutenant 
Nevill  had  only  supplies  enough  to  do  the  combined 
force  five  days,  but  the  two  commanders  trusted 
either  to  catch  the  Indians  or  get  in  striking  dis- 
tance of  the  Pecos  settlements  within  that  time. 
The  Apaches  made  pretty  good  time  across  the 
plain  in  front  of  Eagle  Springs,  and  did  not  seem 
to  recover  from  their  scare  until  they  reached  the 
Diablo  Mountains.  Here  they  killed  and  cooked 
meat  from  one  horse  and  obtained  water  by  melt- 
ing snow  with  hot  rocks. 

The  trail  led  northward  by  Chili  Peak,  a  noted 
landmark  to  be  seen  from  Eagle  Station.  Here  the 
rangers  quit  the  trail  and  went  into  the  Diablo 
Mountains  to  camp  at  Apache  Tanks,  where  Gen- 
eral Grierson  cut  off  Victorio  from  the  Guadalupe 
Mountains  the  summer  before.  Next  morning  Cap- 
tain Baylor  followed  the  trail  north  and  camped  on 
the  brow  of  cliffs  overlooking  Rattlesnake  Springs. 
The  sign  now  led  to  the  edge  of  the  Sierra  Diablo, 
where  the  Indians  camped  and  slept  for  the  first 

286 


! 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

time  since  leaving  Eagle  Mountains.  They  were 
still  watchful,  as  they  were  near  a  most  horrible 
looking  canyon  down  which  they  could  have  dis- 
appeared had  the  scouting  party  come  upon  them. 
Their  next  camp  was  about  ten  miles  farther  on, 
and  Captain  Baylor  saw  they  were  getting  more 
careless  about  camping.  On  the  28th  he  came 
across  another  horse  and  fire  where  the  Apaches 
had  eaten  some  meat.  The  leg  of  the  horse  was 
not  yet  stiff  and  blood  dropped  from  one  when 
picked  up.  The  chase  was  getting  to  be  exciting, 
and  Captain  Baylor  and  his  men  felt  their  chance 
to  avenge  the  many  outrages  committed  by  this 
band  was  now  near  at  hand. 

The  trail  led  off  north  as  though  the  redskins 
were  going  toward  the  Cornudos  in  New  Mexico, 
but  turned  east  and  entered  Sierra  Diablo  Moun- 
tains. In  a  narrow  gorge  the  rangers  found  where 
the  Indians  had  eaten  dinner,  using  snow  to  quench 
their  thirst,  but  their  horses  had  no  water.  From 
this  camp  the  Apaches  made  for  the  cliffs  on  the 
northeast  side  of  Devil  Mountains.  The  scouting 
party  now  felt  the  Indians  were  nearby,  as  they 
were  nearly  all  afoot.  The  danger  of  being  dis- 
covered if  they  passed  over  the  hills  during  the  day- 
light was  so  apparent  that  the  rangers  decided  to 
make  a  dry  camp  and  pass  the  mountain's  brow 

287 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

before  day  the  next  morning.  All  the  signs  were 
good  for  a  surprise;  the  trail  was  not  over  two 
hours  old,  and  a  flock  of  doves  passing  overhead 
going  in  the  direction  of  the  trail  showed  that  water 
was  nearby. 

The  morning  of  the  29th  of  January  the  party 
was  awakened  by  the  guard,  and  passed  over  the 
mountain's  brow  before  daylight.  There  was  some 
difficulty  in  picking  up  the  trail,  though  Captain 
Baylor,  Lieutenant  Nevill  and  the  Pueblo  trailers 
had  been  up  the  evening  before  spying  out  the  land. 
By  stooping  down  with  their  faces  close  to  the 
ground  the  Pueblos  got  the  trail  leading  north  along 
the  crest  of  the  mountains.  Soon  the  Indian  guides 
said  in  low  voices:  "Hoy  esta  los  Indias."  And  Gap- 
tain  Baylor  perceived  the  Apaches'  camp  fires  not 
over  half  a  mile  distant. 

Leaving  a  guard  of  five  men  with  the  horses  the 
rangers  advanced  stealthily  on  foot.  By  taking 
advantage  of  the  crest  of  the  mountain  they  crept 
within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  camp,  supposing 
the  Indians  were  camped  on  the  western  slope  of 
the  hill.  The  Apaches,  however,  were  cautious 
enough  to  put  one  tepee  on  the  eastern  slope  over- 
looking the  valley  and  the  approaches  from  that 
direction.  Captain  Baylor  thereupon  ordered  Ser- 
geant Carruthers  of  Lieutenant  Nevill's  company  to 

288 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

take  seven  men  and  make  a  detour  to  the  left  and 
attack  that  wigwam  while  Lieutenant  Nevill  and 
himself  with  seventeen  men  advanced  on  the  east- 
ern camp.  Sheltering  themselves  behind  some  large 
Spanish  dagger  plants  and  advancing  in  Indian  file 
the  attackers  got  within  one  hundred  yards  of  the 
enemy,  who  was  apparently  just  out  of  bed,  for  it 
was  then  sunrise.  Halting  the  men  deployed  to  the 
right  and  left  and  then,  kneeling,  the  rangers  gave 
the  astonished  Indians  a  deliberate  volley.  At  the 
second  fusillade  the  Apaches  broke  and  fled,  the 
rangers  charging  the  flying  foe  with  a  Texas  yell. 

Sergeant  Carruthers  executed  his  orders  in  gal- 
lant style.  The  Apaches  on  his  side,  alarmed  and 
surprised  by  the  fire  of  Captain  Raylor's  force,  hud- 
dled together  and  three  were  killed  within  twenty 
yards  of  their  camp  fire.  The  redskins  ran  like 
deer  and  made  no  resistance,  for  it  was  each  man 
for  himself.  Nevertheless,  as  they  fled  they  were 
thickly  peppered,  as  there  were  but  two  or  three 
out  of  the  party  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  but  left 
blood  along  their  trail  as  they  ran  off. 

One  Indian  the  rangers  named  Big  Foot  (from 
his  enormous  track)  ran  up  the  mountain  in  full 
view  for  four  hundred  yards,  and  not  less  than 
two  hundred  shots  were  fired  at  him,  but  he  passed 
over  the  hill.  Sergeant  Carruthers  and  several  men 

289 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

pursued  the  fugitive  for  a  mile  and  a  half  and 
found  plenty  of  blood  all  the  way.  Another  war- 
rior was  knocked  down  and  lay  as  though  dead 
for  some  time,  but  finally  regained  his  feet  and 
made  two-forty  time  over  the  hills  with  a  running 
accompaniment  of  Springfield  and  Winchester  balls. 
One  brave  stood  his  ground  manfully,  principally 
because  he  got  the  gable  end  of  his  head  shot  off 
early  in  the  action. 

Of  course  the  women  were  the  principal  sufferers. 
As  it  was  a  bitterly  cold,  windy  morning  and  all  ran 
off  with  blankets  about  them  few  of  the  rangers 
could  tell  braves  from  squaws,  and  in  the  confusion 
of  battle  two  women  were  killed  and  one  mortally 
wounded.  Two  children  were  killed  and  a  third 
shot  through  the  foot.  One  squaw  with  three  bul- 
lets in  her  hand  and  two  children  were  captured. 
Seven  mules  and  nine  horses,  two  Winchester  rifles, 
one  Remington  carbine,  one  United  States  cavalry 
pistol  and  one  .40  double  action  Colt's,  six  United 
States  cavalry  saddles  taken  from  the  troops  killed 
at  Ojo  Caliente  and  some  women's  and  children's 
clothing,  American  made, — evidently  those  of  Mrs. 
Graham, — a  Mexican  saddle  with  a  bullet  hole  in 
it  and  fresh  blood  thereon  and  over  a  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  of  new  calico  fell  as  spoil  to  the  victors. 
All  the  Indians'  camp  equipage  was  burned. 

290 


LAST  FIGHT,  RANGERS  AND  APACHES 

The  victorious  rangers  breakfasted  on  the  battle- 
ground, as  they  had  eaten  nothing  since  dinner  the 
day  before.  Some  of  the  men  found  horse  meat 
good,  while  others  feasted  on  venison  and  roasted 
mescal.  The  band  of  scouts  could  not  remain  long 
at  this  camp  for  water  was  very  scarce.  They  had 
forty  head  of  stock  to  care  for,  and  the  Indians, 
in  their  flight,  ran  through  the  largest  pool  of  water 
and  liberally  dyed  it  with  their  blood,  and  as  none 
of  the  men  were  bloodthirsty  enough  to  use  this  for 
making  coffee  or  bread  they  were  short  of  water. 
However,  the  rangers  found  enough  pure  good 
water  for  their  use  but  the  horses  had  to  wait  until 
the  force  reached  Apache  Tanks,  thirty  miles  dis- 
tant. This  scarcity  of  water  made  it  impossible  to 
remain  at  this  Apache  camp,  otherwise  Captain 
Baylor  could  have  added  three  or  four  scalps  to 
his  trophies.  The  return  march  was  begun,  and  at 
Eagle  Station  Lieutenant  Nevill  and  Captain  Baylor 
separated.  The  captured  squaw  and  the  two  chil- 
dren were  sent  to  Fort  Davis  to  be  turned  over  to 
the  post  commander  for  medical  attention,  for  the 
rangers  had  neither  a  sj^rgeon  nor  a  hospital. 

On  their  return  from  the  battle  of  the  Diablos, 
Captain  Baylor's  Pueblo  Indian  scouts,  Chief  Ber- 
nado  Olgin,  Domingo  Olgin,  and  Aneseta  Duran, 
suddenly  halted  about  one  mile  from  Ysleta,  un- 

291 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

saddled  and  unbridled  their  tired  little  ponies  and 
went  into  camp.  This  was  their  custom  after  a 
successful  campaign  'against  their  Apache  enemies 
so  that  their  comrades  might  come  out  and  do 
honor  to  the  returning  heroes.  For  three  days  and 
nights  a  feast  and  a  scalp  dance  was  held  by  the 
whole  of  the  Pueblo  tribe  of  Ysleta.  They  feasted, 
wined  and  dined  their  returning  warriors  and  in- 
vited the  rangers  to  the  festivities.  The  boys  all 
went  and  reported  they  had  a  fine  time  generally. 
This  celebration  was  the  last  scalp  dance  the  Pueblo 
Indians  ever  had,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Apaches 
in  the  Diablos  exterminated  the  wild  Indians  and 
there  were  no  more  of  them  to  scalp. 


292 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

The  American  citizens  of  Socorro,  New  Mexico, 
during  Christmas  week  of  1881,  held  a  church  fes- 
tival, and  Mr.  A.  M.  Conklin,  editor  of  the  "Socorro 
Sun,"  was  conducting  the  exercises.  Abran  and 
Enofrio  Baca  appeared  at  the  church  under  the  in- 
fluence of  liquor.  Their  talk  and  actions  so  dis- 
turbed the  entertainment  that  Mr.  Conklin  went  to 
them  and  requested  them  to  be  more  quiet,  at  the 
same  time  telling  the  offenders  they  were  perfectly 
welcome  in  the  church  but  that  they  must  behave. 
The  brothers,  highly  indignant,  invited  Mr.  Conklin 
to  fight,  but  Mr.  Conklin  declined  and  again  assured 
the  two  that  they  were  welcome  but  must  act  as 
gentlemen.  Abran  and  Enofrio  at  once  retired 
from  the  church. 

After  the  social  had  ended  and  as  Mr.  Conklin 
with  his  wife  at  his  side  passed  out  of  the  church 
door,  Abran  Baca  caught  Mrs.  Conklin  by  one  arm 
and  jerked  her  away  from  her  husband.  At  the 
same  instant  Enofrio  shot  and  killed  the  editor  on 
the  church  steps. 

This  foul  murder  created  no  end  of  indignation 
in  the  little  town  of  Socorro.  Scouting  parties  were 

293 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

sent  in  all  directions  to  try  and  effect  the  capture 
of  the  murderers.  However,  the  two  Bacas  man- 
aged to  elude  their  pursuers  and  made  their  way 
into  the  Republic  of  Mexico.  The  governor  of  New 
Mexico  at  once  issued  a  proclamation  offering  $500 
for  their  capture  and  the  citizens  of  Socorro  offered 
a  like  amount  for  the  murderers,  dead  or  alive. 
The  proclamation,  with  a  minute  description  of  the 
Baca  boys,  was  sent  broadcast  over  the  country. 
And,  of  course,  the  rangers  at  Ysleta  received  sev- 
eral of  the  circulars. 

In  the  spring  of  1881  the  county  judge  of  El  Paso 
County  was  Jose  Baca,  an  uncle  of  the  two  mur- 
derers. He  was  also  a  merchant  at  Ysleta,  then 
the  county  seat  of  El  Paso  County.  Captain  Bay- 
lor's company  of  rangers  was  quartered  in  the  west 
end  of  Ysleta,  about  one-half  mile  from  the  public 
square.  On  receiving  the  New  Mexico  proclama- 
tion I  set  a  watch  over  the  home  and  store  of  Judge 
Baca  and  kept  it  up  for  nearly  a  month  but  with- 
out success.  We  finally  concluded  that  the  Baca 
boys  had  not  come  our  way  and  almost  forgot  the 
incident. 

However,  one  morning  in  the  latter  part  of  March, 
1881,  Jim  Fitch,  one  of  our  most  trustworthy 
rangers,  hurried  back  to  camp  from  Ysleta  and  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  seen  two  well  dressed  Mex- 

294 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

lean  boys,  strangers  to  him,  sitting  on  the  porch 
of  Judge  Baca's  home.  I  at  once  made  a  detail  of 
four  men.  We  saddled  our  horses,  rode  to  town, 
rounded  up  the  Baca  home  and  captured  two  strange 
Mexicans.  I  believed  them  to  be  the  Baca  brothers, 
and  left  at  once  for  New  Mexico  with  my  prisoners. 

Before  we  had  reached  El  Paso  on  our  journey 
we  were  overtaken  by  Judge  Baca,  who  had  with 
him  an  interpreter.  He  asked  me  to  please  halt 
as  he  wished  to  talk  with  the  prisoners.  After  a 
short  conversation  with  the  boys  the  judge  asked 
me  what  was  the  reward  for  the  capture  of  Abran 
Baca.  I  replied,  "Five  hundred  dollars." 

"If  you  will  just  let  him  step  out  in  the  bosque 
and  get  away  I  will  give  you  $700,"  Judge  Baca 
finally  said  with  some  hesitation. 

Subsequently  the  judge  raised  the  bribe  to  one 
thousand  dollars,  but  I  informed  him  there  was 
not  enough  money  in  El  Paso  County  to  buy  me 
off,  so  he  returned  to  Ysleta  and  I  continued  my 
journey  to  New  Mexico,  feeling  assured  I  had  at 
least  captured  one  of  the  Conklin  murderers.  On 
arriving  at  Socorro  I  was  at  once  informed  that  I 
had  Abran  all  right  but  my  second  prisoner  was 
Massias  Baca,  a  cousin  of  the  murderers,  but  not 
incriminated  in  the  crime. 

I  was  treated  royally  by  the  citizens  and  officers 
295 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

of  Socorro.  They  were  delighted  that  one  of  the 
murderers  had  been  captured  and  promptly  counted 
out  to  me  $250  as  their  part  of  the  reward  offered 
for  the  apprehension  of  one  of  the  criminals. 
Colonel  Eaton,  head  deputy  sheriff  of  the  county, 
issued  me  a  receipt  for  the  body  of  Abran  Baca 
delivered  inside  the  jail  of  Socorro  County,  New 
Mexico.  This  receipt,  forwarded  to  the  governor 
of  the  territory,  promptly  brought  me  a  draft  for 
$250  and  a  letter  of  thanks  from  his  excellency. 

Early  in  April,  about  one  month  after  the  cap- 
ture of  Abran  Baca,  I  learned  from  Santiago  Cooper, 
a  friend  that  lived  in  Ysleta,  that  he  had  seen  a 
man  at  Saragosa,  Mexico,  who,  from  the  description, 
he  believed  to  be  Enofrio  Baca.  I  told  Cooper  I 
would  give  him  $25  if  he  would  go  back  to  Saragosa 
and  find  out  to  a  certainty  if  the  person  he  had  seen 
was  Enofrio  Baca.  A  week  later  Cooper  came  to 
me  and  said  the  man  at  Saragosa  was  Baca  and 
that  the  murderer  was  clerking  in  the  one  big  store 
of  the  town.  This  store  was  a  long  adobe  building 
situated  against  a  hill  with  the  front  facing  so  that 
one  riding  up  to  the  front  of  it  would  bring  his 
saddle  skirts  almost  on  a  level  with  the  building 
because  of  the  terraces  in  front  of  it  made  necessary 
by  the  slope  of  the  hill.  Enofrio  was  of  florid  com- 


296 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

plexion  with  dark  red  hair,  which  made  it  easy  to 
identify  him. 

I  kept  this  information  about  the  murderer  to 
myself  for  nearly  a  week  while  I  pondered  over  it. 
I  was  anxious  to  capture  Baca,  yet  I  well  knew  from 
previous  experience  that  if  I  caused  him  to  be  ar- 
rested in  Mexico  the  authorities  there  would  turn 
him  loose,  especially  when  the  influence  of  wealthy 
relatives  was  brought  to  bear.  Knowing  he  would 
follow  the  law  to  the  letter  I  dare  not  take  Captain 
Baylor  into  my  confidence.  Saragosa,  a  little  town 
of  about  five  hundred  inhabitants,  is  situated  about 
four  miles  southwest  of  Ysleta.  While  it  is  only 
about  a  mile  from  the  Rio  Grande  as  the  crow  flies, 
yet,  because  of  the  many  farms  and  big  irrigation 
ditches,  it  was  impossible  to  enter  or  leave  the  town 
only  by  following  the  public  road  between  Ysleta 
and  Saragosa.  It  has  always  been  the  delight  of 
border  Mexicans  to  get  behind  an  adobe  wall  or 
on  top  an  adobe  house  and  shoot  to  ribbons  any 
hated  gringo  that  might  be  unfortunately  caught 
on  the  Mexican  side  of  the  river.  I  knew  only  too 
well  from  my  own  experience  that  I  could  not  go 
into  Saragosa,  attempt  to  arrest  a  Mexican,  stay 
there  five  minutes  and  live,  yet  I  determined  to 
take  the  law  in  my  own  hands  and  make  the 
attempt. 

297 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

I  took  into  my  confidence  just  one  man,  George 
Lloyd.  If  ever  there  was  an  ace  in  the  ranger 
service  he  was  one.  I  unfolded  my  plans  to  him. 
I  did  not  have  to  point  out  the  danger  to  him  for 
he  had  lived  on  the  Rio  Grande  ten  times  as  long 
as  I. 

"Sergeant,  that  is  an  awful  dangerous  and  risky 
piece  of  business  and  I  will  have  to  have  a  little 
time  in  which  to  think  it  over,"  he  said  when  I 
talked  with  him. 

The  next  day  Lloyd  came  to  me  and  said,  "Ser- 
geant, I  will  go  anywhere  in  the  world  with  you." 

Though  willing  to  accompany  me  I  could  tell  he 
doubted  our  ability  to  execute  the  capture. 

I  planned  to  attempt  the  capture  of  Raca  the  next 
morning  and  sent  Cooper  back  to  Saragosa  to  look 
over  the  situation  there  once  more.  He  informed 
me  on  his  return  that  Raca  was  still  clerking  in  the 
store.  I  now  told  Lloyd  to  keep  our  horses  up 
when  the  animals  were  turned  out  to  graze  next 
morning.  This  move  caused  no  especial  thought 
or  comment,  for  the  men  frequently  would  keep 
their  horses  to  ride  down  town.  As  soon  as  we  had 
crossed  the  Rio  Grande  into  Mexico  I  planned  to 
quit  the  public  road,  travel  through  the  bosques, 
pass  around  on  the  west  side  of  Saragosa  and  ride 
quickly  up  to  the  store  in  which  our  man  was  work- 

298 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

ing.  Lloyd  was  to  hold  the  horses  while  I  was  to 
dismount,  enter  the  store  and  make  the  arrest. 
Then,  if  possible,  I  was  to  mount  Baca  behind  Lloyd 
and  make  a  quick  get-away. 

Our  plans  were  carried  out  almost  to  the  letter. 
We  reached  Saragosa  safely,  and  while  Lloyd  held 
my  horse  in  front  of  the  store  I  entered  and  dis- 
covered Baca  measuring  some  goods  for  an  old 
Mexican  woman.  I  stepped  up  to  him,  caught  him 
in  the  collar,  and  with  a  drawn  pistol  ordered  him 
to  come  with  me.  The  customer  promptly  fainted 
and  fell  on  the  floor.  Two  other  people  ran  from 
the  building,  screaming  at  the  top  of  their  voices. 
Baca  hesitated  about  going  with  me,  and  in  broken 
English  asked  me  where  he  was  to  be  taken.  I  in- 
formed him  to  Paso  del  Norte.  I  shoved  my  pistol 
right  up  against  his  head  and  ordered  him  to  step 
lively.  When  we  reached  our  horses  I  made  Baca 
mount  behind  Lloyd.  I  then  jumped  into  my  sad- 
dle and,  waving  my  pistol  over  my  head,  we  left 
Saragosa  on  a  dead  run.  Our  sudden  appearance 
in  the  town  and  our  more  sudden  leaving  bewildered 
the  people  for  a  few  minutes.  They  took  in  the 
situation  quickly,  however,  and  began  ringing  the 
old  church  bell  rapidly,  and  this  aroused  the  whole 
population. 

As  I  left  Saragosa  I  saw  men  getting  their  horses 
299 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

together  and  knew  that  in  a  few  minutes  a  posse 
would  be  following  us.  When  we  had  gone  two 
miles  almost  at  top  speed  I  saw  that  Lloyd's  horse 
was  failing,  and  we  lost  a  little  time  changing  Raca 
to  my  mount.  We  had  yet  two  miles  to  go  and 
through  deep  sand  most  of  the  way.  I  could  see  a 
cloud  of  dust  and  shortly  a  body  of  mounted  men 
hove  in  view.  It  was  a  tense  moment.  Lloyd  thought 
it  was  all  off  with  us,  but  we  still  had  a  long  lead 
and  our  horses  were  running  easily.  As  our  pur- 
suers made  a  bend  in  the  road  we  discovered  nine 
men  in  pursuit.  As  soon  as  they  had  drawn  up 
within  six  hundreds  yards  they  began  firing  on  us. 
This  was  at  long  range  and  did  no  damage.  In  fact, 
I  believe  they  were  trying  to  frighten  rather  than 
to  wound  us  as  they  were  just  as  likely  to  hit  Raca 
as  either  of  us.  We  were  at  last  at  the  Rio  Grande, 
and  while  it  was  almost  one  hundred  yards  wide 
it  was  flat  and  shallow  at  the  ford.  I  hit  the  water 
running  and  as  I  mounted  the  bank  on  good  old 
Texan  soil  I  felt  like  one  who  has  made  a  home  run 
in  a  world  series  baseball  game.  Our  pursuers 
halted  at  the  river  so  I  pulled  off  my  hat,  waved 
to  them  and  disappeared  up  the  road. 

We  lost  no  time  in  reaching  camp,  and  our  ap- 
pearance there  with  a  prisoner  and  two  run-down 
horses  caused  all  the  boys  in  quarters  to  turn  out. 

300 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

Captain  Baylor  noticed  the  gathering  and  hurried 
over  to  camp. 

"Sergeant,  who  is  this  prisoner  you  have?"  he 
asked,  walking  straight  up  to  me. 

I  replied  it  was  Enofrio  Baca,  the  man  that  had 
murdered  Mr.  Conklin.  The  captain  looked  at  the 
run-down  horses,  wet  with  sweat,  and  asked  me 
where  I  had  captured  him. 

"Down  the  river,"  I  replied,  trying  to  evade  him. 

"From  the  looks  of  your  horse  I  would  think 
you  had  just  run  out  of  a  fight.  Where  down  the 
river  did  you  capture  this  man?" 

I  saw  the  captain  was  going  to  corner  me  and  I 
thought  I  might  as  well  "fess  up."  I  told  him  I 
had  arrested  Baca  at  Saragosa  and  kidnaped  him 
out  of  Mexico.  Captain  Baylor's  eyes  at  once 
bulged  to  twice  their  natural  size. 

"Sergeant,  that  is  the  most  imprudent  act  you 
ever  committed  in  your  life !  Don't  you  know  that 
it  is  a  flagrant  violation  of  the  law  and  is  sure  to 
cause  a  breach  of  international  comity  that  might 
cause  the  Governor  of  Texas  to  disband  the  whole 
of  Company  "A"  ?  Not  only  this,  but  it  was  a  most 
hazardous  undertaking  and  it  is  a  wonder  to  me 
that  the  Mexicans  did  not  shoot  you  and  Lloyd  into 
doll  rags." 


301 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Captain  Baylor  was  plainly  out  of  patience  with 
me. 

"Gillett,  you  have  less  sense  than  I  thought  you 
had,"  he  declared,  heatedly.  "If  you  have  any  ex- 
planation to  make  I  would  like  to  have  it." 

I  reminded  the  captain  of  the  tragic  fate  of  Mor- 
gan and  Brown  and  how  the  authorities  at  Guad- 
alupe  had  turned  their  murderers,  Skevill  and  Mo- 
lina, loose.  I  declared  that  had  I  had  Baca  arrested 
in  Mexico  he  would  have  gone  scot-free  with  his 
rich  and  influential  friends  to  help  him.  Baylor 
declared  that  two  wrongs  did  not  make  one  right, 
and  said  I  should  have  consulted  him.  I  finally  told 
the  captain  frankly  that  I  had  been  in  the  ranger 
service  six  years,  had  risen  from  the  ranks  to  be 
orderly  sergeant  at  a  salary  of  only  $50  a  month. 
I  pointed  out  that  this  was  the  highest  position  I 
could  hope  to  get  without  a  commission,  and  while 
one  had  been  promised  me  at  the  first  vacancy  yet 
I  could  see  no  early  hope  of  obtaining  it,  as  every 
captain  in  the  battalion  was  freezing  to  his  job. 
This  remark  seemed  to  amuse  Captain  Baylor  and 
somewhat  eased  his  anger. 

I  went  on  to  say  that  I  not  only  wanted  the  $500 
reward  offered  for  Baca,  but  I  wanted  the  notoriety 
I  would  get  if  I  could  kidnap  the  murderer  out  of 
Mexico  without  being  killed  in  the  attempt,  for  I 

302 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

believed  the  notoriety  would  lead  to  something  bet- 
ter than  a  ranger  sergeancy.  And  this  is  what 
really  happened,  for  I  subsequently  became  First 
Assistant  Marshal  of  El  Paso  under  Dallas  Stoude- 
mire  at  a  salary  of  $150  per  month,  and  in  less 
than  a  year  after  my  arrest  of  Enofrio  Baca  I  was 
made  Chief  of  Police  of  that  city  at  a  salary  that 
enabled  me  to  get  a  nice  start  in  the  cattle  business. 

"Sergeant,  you  can  go  with  your  man,"  Captain 
Baylor  finally  said,  "but  it  is  against  my  best  judg- 
ment. I  ought  to  escort  him  across  the  Rio  Grande 
and  set  him  free." 

I  lost  no  time  in  sending  a  ranger  to  the  stage 
office  at  Ysleta  with  instructions  to  buy  two  tickets 
to  Masilla,  New  Mexico,  and  one  to  El  Paso.  The 
stage  was  due  to  pass  our  quarters  about  12  o'clock, 
so  I  did  not  have  long  to  wait.  I  took  Lloyd  as  a 
guard  as  far  as  El  Paso  and  there  turned  him  back, 
making  the  remainder  of  the  journey  to  Socorro, 
New  Mexico,  alone  with  the  prisoner.  I  reached 
the  old  town  of  Masilla,  New  Mexico,  at  dark  after 
a  rather  exciting  day.  I  was  afraid  to  put  Baca  in 
jail  at  that  place,  as  I  had  no  warrant  nor  extradi- 
tion papers  upon  which  to  hold  him  and  feared 
the  prison  authorities  might  not  redeliver  Baca  to 
me  next  morning.  The  stage  coach  from  Masilla 
to  Rincon  did  not  run  at  night  so  I  secured  a  room 

303 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

at  the  hotel  and  chaining  the  prisoner  to  me  we 
slept  together. 

On  the  following  day  we  reached  Rincon,  the 
terminus  of  the  Santa  Fe  Railroad  at  that  time.  I 
wired  the  officers  of  Socorro,  New  Mexico,  from 
El  Paso  that  I  had  captured  Baca  and  was  on  my 
way  to  New  Mexico  with  him.  Baca's  friends  had 
also  been  informed  of  his  arrest  and  lost  no  time 
in  asking  the  Governor  of  New  Mexico  to  have  me 
bring  the  prisoner  to  Santa  Fe  as  they  feared  mob 
violence  at  Socorro.  When  I  reached  San  Marcial 
I  was  handed  a  telegram  from  the  governor  order- 
ing me  to  bring  Baca  to  Santa  Fe  and  on  no  account 
to  stop  with  him  in  Socorro. 

Because  of  delay  on  the  railroad  I  did  not  reach 
Socorro  until  late  at  night.  The  minute  the  train 
stopped  at  that  town  it  was  boarded  by  twenty-five 
or  thirty  armed  men  headed  by  Deputy  Sheriff 
Eaton.  I  showed  Eaton  the  governor's  telegram, 
but  he  declared  Baca  was  wanted  at  Socorro  and 
that  was  where  he  was  going.  I  remonstrated  with 
him  and  declared  I  was  going  on  to  Santa  Fe  with 
the  prisoner.  By  this  time  a  dozen  armed  men 
had  gathered  around  me  and  declared,  "Not  much 
will  you  take  him  to  Santa  Fe."  I  was  furious,  but 
I  was  practically  under  arrest  and  powerless  to  help 
myself.  Baca  and  I  were  transferred  from  the 

304 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

train  to  a  big  bus  that  was  in  waiting.  The  jailer 
entered  first,  then  Baca  was  seated  next  to  him  and 
I  sat  next  the  door  with  my  Winchester  in  my  hand. 
The  driver  was  ordered  to  drive  to  the  jail. 

It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night  and  we  had  not 
traveled  far  up  the  street  before  I  looked  out  and 
saw  at  least  a  hundred  armed  men.  They  came 
from  every  direction.  Boys,  did  you  ever  encoun- 
ter a  mob?  I  assure  you  it  is  far  from  a  pleasant 
feeling  when  you  face  one.  The  men  swarmed 
around  the  bus,  three  or  four  of  them  grabbed  the 
horses  by  the  bridle  reins  and  held  them,  while 
others  tried  to  force  the  bus  doors.  I  asked  the 
jailer  if  I  could  depend  on  him  to  help  me  stand 
the  mob  off,  but  he  replied  it  would  do  no  good.  I 
was  now  madder  than  ever,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life  I  ripped  out  an  oath,  saying,  "G —  d — n 
them,  I  am  going  to  stand  them  off!" 

As  the  doors  were  forced  I  poked  my  Winchester 
out  and  ordered  the  mob  to  stand  back  or  I  would 
shoot.  The  men  paid  no  more  attention  to  my  gun 
than  if  it  had  been  a  brown  stick.  A  man  standing 
beside  the  bus  door  seized  the  muzzle  of  my  rifle 
and,  with  a  quick  jerk  to  one  side,  caused  it  to  fly 
out  of  my  hand  and  out  upon  the  ground. 

By  this  time  another  of  the  mob  grabbed  me  in 
the  collar  and  proceeded  to  pull  me  out  of  the  bus. 

305 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

I  spread  my  legs  and  tried  to  brace  myself,  but 
another  hard  and  quick  jerk  landed  me  out  on  the 
ground,  where  one  of  the  men  kicked  me.  I  was 
tame  now  and  made  no  effort  to  draw  my  pistol. 
One  of  the  crowd  said  to  me,  "What  in  h — do  you 
mean?  We  do  not  wish  to  hurt  you  but  we  are 
going  to  hang  that  d — n  Mexican  right  now!" 

I  then  informed  the  mob  of  the  nature  of  Baca's 
arrest  and  told  them  that  the  hanging  of  the  pris- 
oner would  place  me  in  an  awkward  position. 
Then,  too,  the  reward  offered  by  the  territory  ot 
New  Mexico  was  for  the  delivery  of  the  murderer 
inside  the  jail  doors  of  Socorro  County.  The  lead- 
ers of  the  crowd  consulted  for  a  few  minutes  and 
then  concluded  I  was  right.  They  ordered  me  back 
into  the  bus,  gave  me  my  Winchester  and  we  all 
started  for  the  jail.  As  soon  as  Baca  had  been 
placed  in  prison  Deputy  Sheriff  Eaton  sat  down  and 
wrote  me  a  receipt  for  the  delivery  of  Baca  inside 
the  jail  doors. 

By  this  time  day  was  just  beginning  to  break  and 
I  tried  to  stay  the  hanging  by  making  another  talk. 
The  mob  interpreted  my  motive  and  invited  me  to 
step  down  a  block  to  their  community  room  where 
they  would  talk  with  me.  I  started  with  them  and 
we  had  gone  only  a  hundred  yards  before  the  whole 
mob  broke  back  to  the  jail.  I  started  to  go  with 

306 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  EPISODE 

them  but  two  men  held  me,  saying,  "It's  no  use; 
they  are  going  to  hang  him." 

The  men  took  Baca  to  a  nearby  corral  and  hanged 
him  to  a  big  beam  of  the  gate.  The  next  morning 
Baca's  relatives  came  to  me  at  the  hotel  with  hats 
in  their  hands  and  asked  me  for  the  keys  with 
which  to  remove  the  shackles  from  the  dead  man's 
legs.  As  I  handed  them  the  keys  I  felt  both  mor- 
tified and  ashamed.  A  committee  of  citizens  at 
Socorro  waited  on  me  just  before  I  took  the  train 
for  home,  counted  out  to  me  $250  as  their  part  of 
the  reward  and  thanked  me  for  capturing  the  two 
murderers.  The  committee  assured  me  that  it 
stood  ready  to  help  me  financially  or  otherwise 
should  I  get  involved  with  the  Federal  Government 
over  the  capture  and  kidnapping  of  Enofrio  Baca. 

I  presume  the  relatives  of  young  Baca  reported 
his  kidnapping  to  our  government,  for  a  few  weeks 
after  his  capture  Mr.  Blaine,  Secretary  of  State, 
wrote  a  long  letter  to  Governor  Roberts  regarding 
a  breach  of  international  comity.  Governor  Roberts 
wrote  Captain  Baylor  for  a  full  explanation  of  the 
matter.  Captain  Baylor,  while  never  countenancing 
a  wrongdoing  in  his  company,  would  stand  by  his 
men  to  the  last  ditch  when  they  were  once  in 
trouble.  He  was  a  fluent  writer  and  no  man  in 
Texas  understood  better  than  he  the  many  foul  and 
outrageous  murders  that  had  been  committed  along 

307 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

the  Rio  Grande,  the  perpetrators  of  which  had 
evaded  punishment  and  arrest  by  crossing  over  into 
Mexico.  Baylor  wrote  so  well  and  so  to  the  point 
that  nothing  further  was  said  about  the  matter. 
Only  an  order  came  to  Captain  Raylor  admonish- 
ing him  never  again  to  allow  his  men  to  follow 
fugitives  into  Mexico. 

Soon  afterward  the  Safety  Committee  of  Socorro, 
New  Mexico,  wrote  to  Captain  Baylor  saying,  "We 
are  informed  by  a  reliable  party  that  Jose  Baca  of 
Ysleta,  Texas,  has  hired  a  Mexican  to  kill  Sergeant 
Gillett.  Steps  have  been  taken  to  prevent  this. 
However,  he  would  do  well  to  be  on  the  lookout.'* 
Baylor  at  once  went  to  Judge  Baca  with  this  letter, 
but  the  jurist  denied  in  the  most  emphatic  terms 
any  knowledge  of  the  reported  plot.  Also,  there 
was  a  report  current  in  both  Ysleta  and  El  Paso 
that  a  reward  of  $1500  had  been  offered  for  the 
delivery  of  Sergeant  Gillett's  body  to  the  Mexican 
authorities  at  El  Paso  del  Norte.  Upon  investiga- 
tion I  found  that  no  such  offer  had  ever  been  made, 
but  for  safety's  sake  I  kept  out  of  Mexico  for  sev- 
eral years. 

The  kidnapping  of  Baca  aroused  much  comment 
and  gave  me  a  deal  of  notoriety  and,  as  I  had  antici- 
pated, it  was  not  long  in  bearing  the  fruit  I  de- 
sired,— promotion  into  larger  and  more  remuner- 
ative fields  of  work. 

308 


CHAPTER  XIX 
LAST  SGOUTINGS 

During  the  summer  of  1881  Captain  Baylor's 
company  made  several  scouts  out  to  the  Sacra- 
mento and  Guadalupe  Mountains.  These  were  re- 
ported to  the  Adjutant-General  as  scouts  after  In- 
dians, but  there  were  no  more  redskins  in  Texas, 
for  the  rangers  had  done  their  work  effectively. 
These  expeditions  were,  therefore,  more  in  the  na- 
ture of  outings  for  the  boys.  And  it  was  quite  a 
pleasure  to  get  away  from  camp  in  the  hot  Rio 
Grande  Valley  and  scout  in  those  high  mountains 
covered  with  tall  pine  timber  that  teemed  with 
game  such  as  deer,  bear  and  wild  turkey.  The 
plains  between  the  Guadalupe  Mountains  and  Ysleta 
contained  hundreds  of  antelope,  thus  affording  the 
rangers  the  best  of  sport. 

Turning  over  the  pages  of  my  old  scrap  book  I 
find  this  little  announcement  taken  from  the  El  Paso 
Times:  "Colonel  Baylor  and  twenty  of  his  rangers 
have  just  returned  from  a  scout  in  the  Guadalupe 
Mountains,  in  which  they  killed  twenty-five  turkeys, 
fifteen  deer  and  two  antelope." 

On  one  of  these  hunting  expeditions  we  had  with 
us  George  Lloyd,  who  had  been  a  ranger  under 

309 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Lieutenant  Tays  when  his  company  was  first  mus- 
tered into  service  in  El  Paso  County.  We  camped 
at  Los  Cornuvas,  and  here  Lloyd  had  had  an  en- 
gagement with  Indians.  He  went  over  the  ground 
and  gave  us  an  interesting  account  of  his  fight.  He 
said  there  were  but  twelve  men  in  the  scout,  includ- 
ing Lieutenant  Tays.  In  marching  from  Crow 
Springs  to  Los  Cornuvas,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles, 
six  of  the  rangers  were  riding  nearly  a  mile  ahead 
of  the  others  and  on  approaching  Los  Cornuvas 
made  for  some  tinajas  (water  holes)  up  in  those 
mountains.  They  rode  around  a  point  of  rocks  and 
met  face  to  face  some  ten  or  twelve  Indians  coining 
out  from  the  water.  Indians  and  rangers  were 
within  forty  feet  before  they  discovered  each  other's 
presence  and  paleface  and  redskin  literally  fell  off 
their  horses, — the  Indians  seeking  cover  in  the  rocks 
above  the  trail  while  five  of  the  rangers  turned  a 
somersault  into  a  friendly  arroyo. 

A  ranger  said  to  be  a  Russian  nobleman  and 
nihilist  was  killed  early  in  the  fight  and  buried  on 
the  spot  where  he  fell.  A  headboard  was  placed 
to  mark  the  grave,  but  the  Indians  soon  defaced  it 
by  hacking  at  it  with  their  knives  whenever  they 
passed  the  spot.  Though  he  could  have  had  splen- 
did cover,  the  Russian  stood  upright  according  to 


310 


LAST  SGOUTINGS 

the  etiquette  prevailing  among  British  officers  in 
the  Transvaal  and  was  shot  through  the  brain. 

In  dismounting,  Lloyd  held  on  to  the  end  of  a 
thirty-foot  stake  rope  that  was  tied  around  his 
horse's  neck.  Four  of  the  dismounted  scout  wrig- 
gled their  way  down  the  creek  and  got  away.  In 
reloading  his  Winchester  after  shooting  it  empty 
Lloyd  unfortunately  slipped  a  .45  Colt's  pistol  cart- 
ridge into  the  magazine  of  his  .44  Winchester  and 
in  attempting  to  throw  a  cartridge  into  his  gun  it 
jammed — catching  him  in  a  serious  predicament. 
However,  taking  his  knife  from  his  pocket  this  fear- 
less ranger  coolly  removed  the  screw  that  held  the 
side  plates  of  his  Winchester  together,  took  off  the 
plates,  removed  the  offending  cartridge,  replaced 
the  plates,  tightened  up  the  screw,  reloaded  his  gun 
and  began  firing.  It  takes  a  man  with  iron  nerve 
to  do  a  thing  like  that,  and  you  meet  such  a  one 
but  once  in  a  lifetime.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that 
when  I  cast  around  for  a  man  to  go  into  Mexico 
with  me  to  kidnap  Baca  I  selected  Lloyd  out  of  the 
twenty  men  in  camp  ? 

Seeing  that  the  Russian  was  dead  and  his  com- 
panions gone,  Lloyd  crawled  back  down  the  arroyo, 
pulling  his  horse  along  the  bank  above  until  he  was 
out  of  danger.  The  five  rangers'  horses,  knowing 
where  the  water  was,  went  right  up  into  the  rocks, 

311 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

where  they  were  captured,  saddles,  bridles  and  all, 
by  the  Indians. 

The  redskins,  as  soon  as  Lloyd  was  gone,  came 
out  of  hiding,  took  the  Russian's  Winchester  and 
pistol  and  left.  Lloyd  was  the  only  man  of  the  six 
to  save  his  horse,  for  the  Indians,  with  their  needle 
guns  high  up  in  the  rocks,  held  Lieutenant  Tays 
and  the  remainder  of  his  force  at  bay. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  of  1881  Captain 
Baylor  moved  his  company  of  rangers  from  Ysleta 
to  a  site  three  miles  below  El  Paso.  While  camped 
there  the  captain  was  warned  by  the  sheriff  of 
Tombstone,  Arizona,  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  four 
San  Simone  Valley  rustlers,  supposed  to  be  a  part 
of  Curley  Bill's  gang.  The  robbers'  names  were 
given  as  Charley  and  Frank  Baker,  Billie  Morgan 
and  a  fourth  person  supposed  to  be  Curley  Bill 
himself.  These  outlaws  had  stolen  sixteen  big  work 
mules  and  four  horses  at  a  wood  camp  some  twelve 
miles  from  Tombstone.  They  had  also  robbed  a 
store  and,  assaulting  the  proprietor  with  pistols, 
left  him  for  dead.  A  $500  reward  was  offered  for 
the  capture  of  the  desperadoes  and  the  stolen  stock. 
The  robbers'  trail  led  down  into  New  Mexico  and 
it  was  believed  Curley  Bill  and  his  gang  were  headed 
for  western  Texas,  where  they  would  try  to  dis- 


312 


LAST  SGOUTINGS 

pose  of  their  stolen  stock  at  some  of  the  railroad 
grading  camps  near  El  Paso. 

Captain  Baylor  at  once  ordered  me  to  take  seven 
men  and  five  days'  rations  and  scout  up  the  Rio 
Grande  to  the  line  of  New  Mexico  for  the  bandits' 
trail,  and,  if  I  found  it,  to  follow  it  up.  I  worked 
up  the  river  but  found  no  trail.  Neither  could  I 
learn  anything  about  any  strange  men  driving  stock 
through  the  country.  My  time  was  nearly  up  and 
I  concluded  to  return  to  camp  through  a  gap  in 
the  Franklin  Mountains,  some  thirty  or  forty  miles 
north  of  El  Paso.  We  left  the  Rio  Grande  late  in 
the  evening,  passed  out  through  the  gap  and  made 
a  dry  camp  on  the  plains  east  of  the  mountains. 

Early  the  following  morning  we  rode  to  a  water- 
ing place  known  as  Monday's  Springs  and  stopped 
for  breakfast.  Here  the  boys  discovered  some  horse 
and  mule  tracks.  At  first  we  thought  nothing  of 
this,  supposing  the  trail  had  been  made  by  some 
loose  stock  grazing  near  the  water.  From  Mon- 
day's Springs  a  dim  road  led  along  the  east  side  of 
the  mountains  to  El  Paso  and  we  took  this  route 
home.  Before  we  had  traveled  very  far  we  noticed 
that  some  of  the  stock  was  traveling  the  same  road, 
though  even  then  I  never  suspected  that  these  tracks 
might  be  the  trail  of  the  bandits  for  whom  we  were 
scouting.  Finally  we  came  to  footprints  made  by 

313 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

some  men  as  they  adjusted  their  saddles  or  tight- 
ened their  packs.  It  here  dawned  upon  me  that  the 
tracks  might  have  been  made  by  the  parties  we 
wanted. 

I  thereupon  followed  the  trail  carefully  and  it 
led  me  through  what  is  today  the  most  beautiful 
residential  portion  of  the  city  of  El  Paso.  The 
tracks  led  to  a  big  camp  yard  where  now  stands 
the  $500,000  Federal  building  and  postoffice.  In 
the  description  of  the  stolen  stock  we  were  told 
one  of  the  mules  carried  a  small  Swiss  stock  bell. 
As  I  neared  the  wagon  yard  I  heard  the  tinkle  of 
this  bell  and  felt  sure  we  had  tracked  our  quarry. 
We  dismounted,  and  with  our  Winchesters  cocked 
and  ready  for  action,  our  little  party  of  rangers 
slipped  quickly  inside  the  large  corral  gate  and 
within  ten  feet  of  it  we  came  upon  three  heavily 
armed  men  bending  over  a  fire  cooking  their  break- 
fast. Their  guns  were  leaning  against  the  adobe 
fence  near  at  hand,  so  the  surprise  was  complete. 

The  outlaws  rose  to  their  feet  and  attempted  to 
get  their  guns,  but  my  men  held  their  cocked  Win- 
chesters at  their  breasts.  I  told  our  captives  that 
we  were  rangers  ordered  to  arrest  them  and  de- 
manded their  surrender.  The  robbers  were  un- 
decided what  to  do;  they  were  afraid  to  pull  their 
pistols  or  seize  their  guns,  yet  they  refused  to  hold 

314 


LAST  SCOUTINGS 

up  their  hands.  Finally  one  of  the  Baker  brothers 
turned  slightly  toward  me  and  said  they  would 
rather  be  shot  down  and  killed  than  give  up — sur- 
render meant  death  anyway.  I  thereupon  answered 
that  we  had  no  desire  to  hurt  them,  but  declared 
that  the  least  attempt  to  pull  a  gun  would  mean 
instant  death  to  them  all,  and  again  ordered  them 
to  raise  their  hands.  They  slowly  obeyed.  I  stepped 
up  to  them,  unbuckled  their  belts  and  took  their 
weapons. 

In  looking  over  their  camp  I  found  four  saddles 
and  Winchesters  but  I  had  captured  only  three  men. 
I  mentioned  this  fact  to  the  prisoners  and  they 
laughingly  said  one  of  their  number  had  stepped 
down  town  to  get  a  package  of  coffee,  had  probably 
noticed  our  presence  and  lit  out.  The  two  Baker 
boys  and  Billie  Morgan  were  the  men  captured,  and 
I  asked  if  the  missing  man  was  Gurley  Bill  himself. 
They  replied  it  was  not,  but  refused  to  tell  who  the 
fourth  member  of  their  party  was.  As  we  had  no 
description  of  him  and  he  was  on  foot  in  a  town 
full  of  armed  men  we  had  no  means  of  identifying 
him  and  he  was  never  captured. 

From  the  captured  robbers  we  learned  that  they 
had  run  out  of  provisions,  and  for  this  reason  they 
had  not  camped  at  Monday  Springs.  They  had 
risen  early  and  come  into  El  Paso  for  breakfast. 

315 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

They  declared  it  was  a  good  thing  for  us  that  they 
had  built  their  camp  fire  so  near  the  gate,  for  had 
they  been  thirty  feet  from  it  they  would  have  put 
up  a  fight  we  should  have  remembered  for  a  long 
time.  I  replied  that  the  eight  of  us  could  have  held 
our  own  no  matter  where  they  had  camped.. 

These  robbers  were  held  in  our  camp  some  ten 
days  or  more  until  the  proper  extradition  papers 
could  be  had  from  the  State  Capitol  at  Austin,  as 
they  refused  to  be  taken  back  to  Arizona  without 
the  proper  authority.  They  owned  horses,  which 
they  gave  to  some  lawyers  in  El  Paso  to  prevent 
their  being  taken  back  to  the  scene  of  their  crimes. 
We  secured  all  the  stolen  stock — sixteen  mules  and 
four  horses.  The  owners  came  and  claimed  them 
and  paid  the  rangers  $200  and  the  Arizona  sheriff 
paid  a  like  amount  for  the  capture  of  the  rustlers. 

Our  rangers  became  well  acquainted  with  these 
thieves  while  we  held  them  in  our  camp.  The  rob- 
bers admitted  they  were  going  under  assumed 
names  and  said  they  were  Texans  but  refused  to 
say  from  what  part  of  the  state  they  came.  The 
three  of  them  were  taken  back  to  Arizona,  tried 
for  assault  to  kill  and  the  theft  of  the  horses  at 
Tombstone  and  sent  to  the  prison  at  Yuma  for 
twenty-five  years.  They  frequently  wrote  to  our 
boys  from  there  and  seemed  to  hold  no  grudge 

316 


LAST  SGOUTINGS 

against  us  for  capturing  them.  The  scout  to  cap- 
ture these  men  was  the  last  one  of  importance  I 
took  part  in,  for  my  work  with  the  rangers  was 
now  growing  toward  its  close. 

In  the  fall  of  1881  Captain  Baylor  received  word 
from  Israel  King  of  Cambray,  New  Mexico,  that  a 
band  of  thieves  had  stolen  a  bunch  of  cattle  from 
him  and  at  last  reports  were  headed  toward  El  Paso 
with  them.  With  a  detail  of  four  men  I  was  or- 
dered to  make  a  scout  up  the  river  and  into  the 
Ganutillos  to  intercept  the  rustlers.  After  traveling 
some  ten  miles  up  the  Rio  Grande  we  crossed  the 
river  into  New  Mexico  to  get  on  more  even  ground. 
Some  eighteen  miles  above  El  Paso  we  found  the 
trail  of  the  stolen  stock  and  followed  it  back  across 
the  Rio  Grande  into  Texas. 

While  working  our  way  along  the  trail  through 
almost  impassable  brush  we  entered  a  small  glade 
and  came  upon  the  stolen  stock  quietly  grazing. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  them  a  Mexican  with  a  Win- 
chester stood  guard  while  his  horse  grazed  nearby. 
The  guard  fired  on  us  as  he  ran  to  his  horse  and 
we  were  compelled  to  run  around  the  cattle  to  get 
to  the  thief.  We  fired  our  guns  as  we  ran  and  this 
sudden  noise  frightened  the  loose  pony  so  the  fugi- 
tive was  unable  to  mount.  He  was  then  forced  to 
dive  into  the  brush  on  foot.  Knowing  we  could 

317 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

make  no  headway  through  the  heavy  tornilla  bosque 
we  dismounted  and  charged  it  on  foot.  The  fleeing 
Mexican  undertook  to  run  through  a  muddy  slough 
formed  by  back  water  from  the  Rio  Grande.  Here 
he  bogged  but,  extracting  himself,  he  backed  out 
the  way  he  had  entered  and  found  safety  in  the 
friendly  brush.  In  running  to  where  he  was  last 
seen  we  found  his  gun  abandoned  in  the  mud. 
Some  twenty  or  thirty  shots  were  fired  at  him  and 
wrhile  none  found  the  mark  we  captured  his  Win- 
chester, his  pony  and  thirty-six  head  of  stolen  cattle 
and  gave  him  a  scare  that  he  will  remember  so  long 
as  he  lives.  The  cattle  were  returned  to  Mr.  King, 
who  kindly  presented  us  with  $200  for  their  re- 
covery. 

We  learned  later  that  Frank  Stevenson,  a  notori- 
ous rustler,  whose  rendezvous  was  in  this  Ganutillo 
brush,  had  stolen  these  cattle  and  had  left  the  Mex- 
ican in  charge  of  them  while  he  had  gone  into 
El  Paso  to  effect  their  sale.  As  described  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter,  I  finally  captured  Stevenson  and  he 
was  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  fifteen  years  for 
horse  stealing.  His  capture  and  imprisonment 
broke  up  the  Canutillo  gang,  and  today,  forty 
years  after  his  arrest,  the  upper  Rio  Grande 
Valley  is  almost  an  Eden  on  earth  with  its 
fine  apple  and  peach  orchards,  its  alfalfa  fields,  big 

318 


LAST  SCOUTINGS 

dairy  herds  and  elegant  homes.  It  is  one  of  the 
beauty  spots  adjacent  to  the  now  fine  city  of  El  Paso. 
The  Santa  Fe  Railroad  traverses  this  valley,  and 
I  sometimes  travel  over  it.  As  I  sit  in  an  easy  seat 
in  the  Pullman  and  look  out  over  the  country  I 
always  reflect  on  the  past  and  wonder  how  many 
of  its  present  inhabitants  know  what  a  wilderness 
and  what  a  rendezvous  it  once  was  for  all  kinds  of 
cutthroats,  cattle  thieves  and  murderers. 

While  the  rangers  were  camped  near  El  Paso  dur- 
ing the  fall  of  1881  I  met  Captain  Thatcher,  then 
division  superintendent  of  the  Santa  Fe  Railroad. 
He  told  me,  because  of  the  stage  and  train  robberies 
in  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  the  railroad  and  the 
Wells-Fargo  Express  companies  feared  that  their 
trains  would  be  held  up  near  El  Paso.  To  protect 
themselves  they  had,  therefore,  decided  to  place 
armed  guards  of  three  men  on  the  main  line  of  the 
Santa  Fe  to  run  between  Deming  and  Las  Vegas, 
New  Mexico,  and  a  similar  guard  on  the  branch 
from  El  Paso,  Texas,  to  Rincon,  New  Mexico.  Gap- 
tain  Thatcher  had  known  me  as  a  ranger  and  my 
kidnapping  of  Enofrio  Baca  out  of  Mexico  had  won 
me  no  little  notoriety,  so  he  now  offered  me  a  posi- 
tion with  the  railroad  company  as  captain  of  the 
guard  at  a  salary  of  $150  per  month.  I  would  be 


319 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

allowed  to  select  my  own  men  for  guards  and  would 
be  responsible  for  their  acts. 

I  requested  time  to  consider  the  proposition. 
While  the  position  as  captain  of  the  railroad  guard 
might  not  be  permanent — might  not  hold  out  more 
than  six  months — yet  the  salary  attached  was 
exactly  three  times  what  I  received  from  the  State 
of  Texas  as  sergeant  of  rangers.  I  discussed 
Thatcher's  offer  with  Captain  Baylor  and  finally 
prevailed  upon  him  to  give  me  my  discharge.  And 
on  the  26th  of  December,  1881,  after  serving  the 
State  of  Texas  as  a  ranger  for  six  years  and  seven 
months  I  laid  down  my  Winchester  with  the  sat- 
isfied consciousness  that  I  had  done  my  duty  ever. 
My  term  of  service  embraced  one  of  the  happiest 
portions  of  my  life,  and  recollections  of  my  ranger 
days  are  among  my  most  cherished  memories. 
Among  my  dearest  possessions,  though  preserved 
in  an  old  scrapbook,  is  my  discharge.  It  reads 
simply: 

DISCHARGE 

This  is  to  certify  that  James  B.  Gillett,  1st  Ser- 
geant of  Captain  Geo.  W.  Baylor's  Company  "A" 
of  the  Frontier  Battalion  of  the  State  of  Texas,  is 
hereby  honorably  discharged  from  the  service  of 
the  state  by  reason  of  his  own  request.  I  take  great 

320 


LAST  SGOUTINGS 

pleasure  in  testifying  to  his  uniform  good  conduct 
and  galjant  service  in  my  company. 

Given  at  El  Paso,  Texas,  this,  the  26th  day  of 
December,  1881. 

GEORGE  W.  BAYLOR 
Commanding  Company. 

The  personnel  of  Captain  Baylor's  company 
changed  rapidly,  so  that  at  the  time  of  my  discharge 
there  was  scarcely  a  man  in  the  company  that  had 
served  longer  than  six  months.  There  was,  there- 
fore, no  wrenching  or  straining  of  strong  friend- 
ship ties  when  I  left  the  command,  save  only  for 
my  leaving  of  Captain  Baylor.  To  part  from  him 
did,  indeed,  make  me  feel  sad.  My  farewell  and 
departure  was  simple  and  unimpressive.  I  sat 
down  with  my  comrades  for  a  last  ranger  dinner  of 
beans,  bacon,  bread  and  black  coffee.  After  the 
meal  I  arose  from  the  table,  shook  hands  with 
Captain  Baylor  and  the  boys,  mounted  my  horse 
and  rode  away  from  the  ranger  camp  forever.  Yet, 
though  my  term  of  actual  service  was  over  and 
though  I  had  garnered  a  host  of  memories  and  ex- 
periences, I  had  not  quite  finished  with  the  rangers 
—I  had  not  gathered  all  the  fruits  of  my  ranger- 
ship, — an  appointment  to  the  police  force  of  El  Paso 
in  the  vicinity  of  which  city  I  had  so  often  scouted. 


321 


CHAPTER  XX 
FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1881  the  old  town  of  El 
Paso  awoke  out  of  her  Rip  Van  Winkle  sleep  to 
find  that  four  grand  trunk  railroad  lines, — the  Santa 
Fe,  Southern  Pacific,  G.,  H.  &  S.  A.,  and  the  Texas 
&  Pacific — were  rapidly  building  toward  her  and 
were  certain  to  enter  the  town  by  the  end  of  the 
year.  Situated  as  it  was,  many  hundreds  of  miles 
from  any  other  town,  it  was  a  foregone  conclusion 
that  El  Paso  had  the  making  of  a  great  city  and 
was  a  fine  field  for  investment.  Bankers,  mer- 
chants, capitalists,  real  estate  dealers,  cattlemen, 
miners,  railroad  men,  gamblers,  saloon-keepers  and 
sporting  people  of  both  sexes  flocked  to  the  town. 
They  came  in  buggies,  hacks,  wagons,  horseback 
and  even  afoot.  There  was  not  half  enough  hotel 
accommodations  to  go  around,  so  people  just  slept 
and  ate  at  any  old  place.  El  Paso  Street,  the  only 
business  thoroughfare  at  that  time,  was  flooded 
with  crowds. 

At  night  there  was  not  enough  room  for  people 
to  walk  on  the  sidewalks  and  they  filled  the  streets. 
To  me  it  looked  just  a  miniature  midway  at  a 
world's  fair.  A  saloon  was  opened  on  almost  every 

322 


DALLAS    STOUDENMIRE 


FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

corner  of  the  town  with  many  in  between.  Each 
drinking  place  had  a  gambling  house  attached 
where  the  crowds  played  faro  bank,  monte,  roulette, 
chuck-a-luck,  stud  poker  and  every  gambling  game 
on  the  calendar.  If  one  wished  a  seat  at  the  gam- 
ing tables  he  had  to  come  early  or  he  could  not  get 
within  thirty  feet  of  them.  Two  variety  theaters, 
the  Coliseum,  operated  by  the  Manning  Brothers,— 
the  largest  in  the  southwest — and  Jack  Doyle's,  were 
quickly  opened. 

An  election  was  called  in  El  Paso  and  the  city 
was  duly  incorporated  and  a  mayor  and  board  of 
aldermen  installed.  George  Campbell  was  elected 
city  marshal  and  given  one  assistant,  Bill  Johnson. 
The  new  marshal  had  come  to  El  Paso  from  Young 
County,  Texas,  where  he  had  been  a  deputy  sheriff. 
Campbell  had  done  some  good  detective  work  and 
was  a  fairly  good  and  efficient  officer,  but  his  as- 
sistant was  much  below  ordinary. 

The  city  marshal  soon  found  that  with  but  one 
man  to  aid  him  he  had  the  biggest  kind  of  a  job 
on  his  hands  with  something  doing  every  hour  in 
the  twenty-four.  Campbell  decided  he  was  not  get- 
ting enough  pay  for  the  work  he  had  to  do  and 
asked  the  City  Council  for  a  raise  in  his  salary,  but 
the  council  refused  it.  The  marshal  at  once  re- 
signed and  left  Bill  Johnson  to  hold  the  town. 

323 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Campbell  was  very  friendly  with  the  sporting  ele- 
ment in  El  Paso,  especially  with  the  Manning 
Brothers,  who  were  running  two  saloons  and  a  big 
variety  theater.  Campbell  and  his  friends  decided 
to  use  strategy  to  force  the  council  to  increase  his 
salary  and  planned  to  shoot  up  the  town,  thinking 
this  would  cause  the  city  fathers  to  reinstate  Camp- 
bell in  his  old  position  with  a  substantial  increase 
in  pay.  At  2  o'clock  one  morning  the  town  was 
shot  up,  some  three  or  four  hundred  shots  being 
fired  promiscuously  and  with  no  attempt  to  make 
arrests. 

The  following  morning  Mayor  McGoffin  sent  a 
hurry  call  to  Captain  Baylor  at  Ysleta  and  asked 
that  a  detachment  of  Texas  Rangers  be  sent  to  El 
Paso  to  help  police  the  town.  At  that  time  I  had 
not  severed  my  connection  with  the  rangers,  so  I 
was  ordered  to  make  a  detail  of  five  rangers,  issue 
them  fifteen  days'  rations  and  have  them  report  at 
once  to  the  mayor  of  El  Paso. 

The  peace  loving  citizens  of  the  town  welcomed 
the  rangers,  secured  nice  quarters  for  them  and  fur- 
nished the  detachment  with  a  stove  on  which  to 
cook  its  meals.  The  rangers  had  been  in  El  Paso 
on  police  duty  about  a  week  when  there  appeared 
in  the  town  from  New  Mexico  the  famous  Dallas 
Stoudenmire.  The  newcomer  was  six  feet  two 

324 


FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

inches  in  height,  a  blonde  and  weighed  one  hundred 
and  eighty-five  pounds.  Stoudenmire  had  a  com- 
pelling personality  and  had  been  a  Confederate 
soldier,  having  served  with  General  Joe  Johnston  at 
Greensboro,  North  Carolina.  Mr.  Stoudenmire  ap- 
plied to  the  mayor  and  City  Council  for  the  position 
of  city  marshal.  He  presented  good  references  and 
was  duly  appointed  town  marshal.  Bancrof 

George  Campbell  now  saw  his  chances  for  re- 
instatement as  an  officer  in  El  Paso  go  glimmering. 
Marshal  Stoudenmire  called  on  Bill  Johnson  for  the 
keys  of  the  city  jail,  but  the  latter  refused  to  sur- 
render them.  Thereupon  Stoudenmire  seized  the 
recalcitrant  assistant,  shook  him  up  and  took  the 
keys  from  his  pocket,  thereby  making  his  first 
enemy  in  El  Paso. 

About  ten  days  after  the  new  marshal  had  been 
installed  it  was  reported  in  El  Paso  that  two  Mexi- 
can boys  had  been  found  murdered  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles  from  town  on  the  Rio  Grande.  The 
rangers  stationed  in  the  city  went  out  to  the  ranch 
to  investigate.  The  bodies  were  brought  to  El  Paso 
and  a  coroner's  inquest  was  held  in  a  room  front- 
ing on  El  Paso  Street.  Johnnie  Hale,  manager  of 
Manning's  little  ranch,  was  summoned  to  appear 
before  the  coroner,  and  it  was  believed  by  the 


325 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

rangers  that  Hale  and  an  ex-ranger  named  Len 
Peterson  had  committed  the  double  murder. 

The  inquest,  being  held  in  such  a  public  place, 
attracted  a  crowd  of  onlookers.  Besides  the  ran- 
gers, Marshal  Stoudenmire,  ex-Marshal  Campbell, 
and  Bill  Johnson  were  present.  A  man  named  Gus 
Krempkau  acted  as  interpreter.  The  trial  dragged 
along  until  the  noon  hour  and  the  proceedings  were 
adjourned  for  dinner.  The  rangers  went  at  once 
to  their  quarters  to  prepare  their  meal,  though 
there  was  still  a  crowd  standing  about  the  scene 
of  the  inquest.  Krempkau  came  out  of  the  room 
and  was  accosted  by  John  Hale,  who  had  become 
offended  at  the  way  the  interpreter  had  interpreted 
the  evidence.  After  a  few  hot  words  Hale  quickly 
pulled  his  pistol  and  shot  Krempkau  through  the 
head,  killing  him  instantly.  Marshal  Stoudenmire 
ran  up,  shot  at  Hale  but  missing  him  killed  a  Mexi- 
can bystander.  At  the  second  shot  from  the  mar- 
shal's pistol  John  Hale  fell  dead.  George  Campbell 
had  puUed  his  pistol  and  was  backing  off  across 
the  street  when  Stoudenmire  suddenly  turned  and 
shot  him  down.  Four  men  were  thus  killed  almost 
within  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

Stoudenmire  was  held  blameless  by  the  better 
class  of  citizens  for  the  part  he  had  played,  but  a 
certain  sporting  element — mostly  friends  of  Camp- 

326 


FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

bell — was  highly  indignant  at  Marshal  Stoudenmire 
for  killing  Campbell,  and  declared  the  latter  had 
been  murdered.  The  Manning  Brothers  were  espe- 
cially bitter  against  the  marshal,  as  he  had  killed 
their  ranch  foreman,  Hale,  and  their  friend,  Camp- 
bell. This  feeling  against  Marshal  Stoudenmire 
never  subsided,  and  just  a  little  more  than  one  year 
after,  Dallas  Stoudenmire  was  shot  and  killed  in 
a  street  fight  by  Jim  and  Dr.  Manning  within  fifty 
feet  of  the  spot  where  Stoudenmire  himself  had 
killed  the  three  men  the  year  before. 

The  friends  of  George  Campbell  now  sought  to 
take  the  life  of  Marshal  Stoudenmire,  and  they  used 
as  their  instrument  Bill  Johnson,  a  man  almost 
simple  mentally.  The  plotters  furnished  Johnson 
with  plenty  of  free  whisky  and  when  they  had  made 
him  drunk  they  told  him  Stoudenmire  had  no  right 
to  catch  him  in  the  collar  and  shake  him  as  if  he 
were  a  cur  dog.  Johnson  finally  agreed  to  kill  the 
marshal.  Armed  with  a  double-barreled  shotgun 
the  tool  of  the  plotters  took  up  a  position  one  night 
behind  a  pile  of  bricks  in  San  Antonio  Street  where 
it  enters  El  Paso  and  lay  in  wait  for  his  intended 
victim. 

Marshal  Stoudenmire  was  then  down  at  Neal 
Nuland's  Acme  saloon,  and  it  was  well  known  he 
would  soon  make  his  round  up  the  street.  Shortly 

327 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

afterward  he  was  seen  coining,  and  when  he  had 
approached  within  twenty-five  feet  of  the  brick  pile 
Bill  Johnson  rose  to  his  feet  and  fired  both  barrels 
of  his  shotgun.  Unsteady  with  drink,  Johnson's 
fire  went  over  the  marshal's  head  and  left  him  un- 
harmed. The  marshal  pulled  his  pistol  and  with 
lightning  rapidity  filled  Johnson's  body  full  of  holes. 
At  the  same  moment  Campbell's  friends,  posted  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  opened  fire  on  Stou- 
denmire  and  sh'ghtly  wounded  him  in  one  foot,  but 
the  marshal  charged  his  attackers  and  single-handed 
put  them  to  flight. 

From  this  day  Marshal  Stoudenmire  had  the 
roughs  of  El  Paso  eating  out  of  his  hand.  There 
was  no  longer  any  necessity  for  the  rangers  to  help 
him  poh'ce  the  town  and  they  were  withdrawn. 
Stoudenmire's  presence  on  the  streets  was  a  guar- 
antee of  order  and  good  government.  He  was  a 
good  man  for  the  class  of  people  he  had  to  deal 
with,  yet  he  knew  there  were  those  in  El  Paso  that 
were  his  bitter  enemies  and  always  on  the  alert  for 
a  chance  to  take  his  lif  e.  This  caused  him  to  drink, 
and  when  under  the  influence  of  liquor  he  became 
mean  and  overbearing  to  some  of  his  most  ardent 
supporters,  so  much  so  that  by  the  spring  of  1882 
he  was  asked  to  resign.  In  a  dramatic  and  fiery 
speech  Stoudenmire  presented  his  resignation  and 

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FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

declared  he  had  not  been  treated  fairly  by  the  City 
Council  and  that  he  could  straddle  them  all. 

Immediately  on  leaving  the  rangers,  as  narrated 
at  the  close  of  the  preceding  chapter,  I  accepted  a 
position  of  captain  of  guards  on  the  Santa  Fe  Rail- 
road under  my  friend,  Captain  Thatcher.  I  did  not 
long  remain  in  the  railroad's  employ,  and  after  a 
few  months  I  resigned  my  position  there  to  become 
assistant  city  marshal  under  Mr.  Stoudenmire. 

Upon  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Stoudenmire  I  was 
appointed  city  marshal  of  El  Paso.  Upon  my  ap- 
pointment the  ex-marshal  walked  over,  took  me  by 
the  hand  and  said,  "Young  man,  I  congratulate  you 
on  being  elected  city  marshal  and  at  the  same  time 
I  wish  to  warn  you  that  you  have  more  than  a  man's 
size  job  on  your  hands." 

Stoudenmire  at  once  secured  the  appointment  as 
United  States  deputy  marshal  of  the  Western  Dis- 
trict of  Texas  with  headquarters  at  El  Paso.  Stou- 
denmire always  treated  me  with  the  greatest  consid- 
eration and  courtesy  and  gave  me  trouble  on  only 
one  occasion.  I  reproduce  here  a  clipping  from  an 
El  Paso  paper  of  the  time: 

"Last  Thursday  night  a  shooting  scrape  in  which 
ex-Marshal  Stoudenmire  and  ex-Deputy  Page  played 
the  leading  parts  occurred  at  the  Acme  saloon.  It 
seems  that  early  in  the  evening  Page  had  a  mis- 

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SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

understanding  with  Billy  Bell.  Stoudenmire  acted 
as  peacemaker  in  the  matter.  In  doing  so  he  car- 
ried Page  to  Doyle's  concert  hall,  where  the  two 
remained  an  hour  or  so  and  got  more  or  less  in- 
toxicated. About  midnight  they  returned  to  the 
Acme  and  soon  got  into  a  quarrel.  Stoudenmire 
drew  his  pistol  and  fired  at  Page;  the  latter,  how- 
ever, knocked  the  weapon  upward  and  the  ball  went 
into  the  ceiling.  Page  then  wrenched  the  pistol 
from  Stoudenmire  and  the  latter  drew  a  second  pis- 
tol and  the  two  combatants  were  about  to  perforate 
each  other  when  Marshal  Gillett  appeared  on  the 
premises  with  a  double-barrel  shotgun  and  corralled 
both  of  them.  They  were  taken  before  court  the 
following  morning  and  fined  $25  each  and  Stouden- 
mire was  placed  under  bond  in  the  sum  of  $250  to 
keep  the  peace." 

My  election  to  the  marshalship  of  El  Paso  I  at- 
tribute solely  to  my  training  as  a  ranger  and  to  the 
notoriety  my  kidnapping  of  Baca  out  of  Mexico  had 
given  me,  so  that  the  marshalship  of  the  town  was 
one  of  the  direct  fruits  of  my  ranger  service. 

I  was  an  officer  of  El  Paso  for  several  years.  Not 
very  long  after  my  acceptance  of  the  marshalship 
Captain  C.  L.  Nevill,  with  whom  I  had  served  in 
Lieutenant  Reynolds'  company,  resigned  his  ranger 
command  and  became  sheriff  and  tax  collector  of 

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FRUITS  OF  RANGER  SERVICE 

Presidio  County,  Texas.  The  Marfa  country  was 
now  seen  to  be  a  very  promising  cattle  section,  so 
Captain  Nevill  and  myself  formed  a  partnership 
and  embarked  in  the  cattle  business.  This  did  not 
in  the  least  interfere  with  our  duties  as  sheriff  and 
marshal,  respectively,  and  we  soon  built  up  a  nice 
little  herd  of  cattle. 

In  the  spring  of  1885  General  Gano  and  sons  of 
Dallas,  Texas,  formed  a  company  known  as  the 
Estado  Land  and  Cattle  Company.  The  new  con- 
cern arranged  to  open  a  big  ranch  in  Brewster 
County  and  General  Gano  wrote  to  Captain  Nevill, 
asking  him  please  to  secure  a  good  cattleman  as 
ranch  manager  for  the  new  company.  Nevill  at 
once  wrote  me  and  advised  me  to  accept  this  posi- 
tion. In  his  letter  he  jokingly  remarked: 

"Jim,  you  have  had  a  quart  cup  of  bullets  shot 
at  you  while  a  ranger  and  marshal,  and  now  that 
you  have  a  chance  to  quit  and  get  something  less 
hazardous  I  advise  you  to  do  it.  Besides  you  will 
be  near  our  own  little  ranch  and  can  see  your  own 
cattle  from  time  to  time." 

I  considered  the  proposition  seriously,  and  on  the 
1st  day  of  April,  1885,  I  resigned  from  the  police 
force  of  El  Paso  and  became  a  cowboy  again.  In 
accepting  the  marshalship  I  reaped  the  fruits  of  my 
ranger  service  and  now,  in  resigning  from  that 

331 


SIX  YEARS  WITH  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

position  I  completely  severed  all  my  connection 
with  the  ranger  force  and  all  that  it  had  brought 
me.  Henceforth  my  ranger  days  and  ranger  service 
were  to  be  but  a  memory,  albeit  the  most  happy 
and  cherished  one  of  my  life. 

I  was  manager  of  the  Estado  Land  and  Cattle 
Company's  ranch  for  nearly  six  years  and  during 
that  period  the  herd  increased  from  six  to  thirty 
thousand  head.  When  I  resigned  the  ranch  man- 
agership it  was  that  I  might  attend  to  my  own  ranch 
interests,  which  had  also  grown  in  that  period. 
Though  today  I  own  a  large  and  prosperous  ranch  in 
the  Marf  a  country  and  though  my  business  interests 
are  many  and  varied,  I  still  cherish  the  memory  of 
my  ranger  days  and  am  never  too  busy  to  see  an 
old  ranger  comrade  and  re-live  with  him  those  six 
adventurous,  happy  and  thrilling  years  I  was  a 
member  of  the  Frontier  Battalion  of  the  Texas 
Rangers. 

THE   END 


332 


